Bubblegum Crisis: A Farewell to Arms part 2
by Purple Knight Saber
Summary: What's normal when you never knew what normal is? Yumeko is trying to find that out, but may be losing who she is in the process. Meanwhile, she gets a shock when Nene decides to visit for Christmas. Rated M for one lime scene.
1. Hydrophobia, part deux

Heh, after I wrote part 1 of FTA, I realized, "This is 63 pages of FLUFF!" Don't worry though, part 2 isn't so much fluff. However, because of a lime scene I've rated it M. Don't say I didn't warn you. Part 2 was written between May 2002 and May 2003.

-----

When I'd first arrived in Sacramento at the beginning of September, I'd thought that I'd be living in the big city. But instead, I ended up in a suburb, which was an entirely different experience than having lived in MegaTokyo my whole life. First off, it wasn't crowded at all here. Two-room apartments were unheard of here, and every house had a sprawling lawn with usually a tree or two, which I had never seen in Tokyo.

It wasn't exactly much of a culture shock, suddenly living here instead of Tokyo, anyway. The basic culture was very similar to that back home. The school system threw me for a loop, though, but eventually I got used to it, even though it annoyed me to no end that I was essentially restarting my senior year. In Tokyo, it started in April, but here in Sacramento, it started in September. Why couldn't school systems around the world all be on the same damn schedule?

Another thing that I had to get used to was having a father figure in the house. Tyler wasn't anything like the guys I knew back home, like Masahiro and especially Tsubasa, and I was thankful for that. He asked me if I needed help with anything so often that I wondered if he didn't have anything better to do with his free time. On the other hand, I guess it was nice that he was trying to make me feel welcome in his home, unlike his bratty daughter, Mikhaila. God, I hated her. Well…'hate' was too strong a word; it was actually fun at times to tease her whenever she got in my face about the smallest little thing. But I certainly didn't like her, and it was apparent she shared the same feelings for me. At school, if we saw each other in the hallway, she'd just glance in the other direction and walk by without saying a word. Me, I'd just shrug and keep walking.

After my first tai chi session with Kenneth, Irodia scheduled me to meet with him three days a week. So on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, after school, I'd go down to the local gym to let him teach me some moves. After only a few sessions, like he'd said, I did begin to notice some subtle differences. I began to sleep better, and I also felt like I had more energy – or, in Kenneth's words, my chi was flowing better. I'd been bugging him to teach me some more leg moves, to help my leg, but he said that it was important to concentrate on my entire being, and not just my leg.

"Chi cannot be concentrated on one area of the body," he explained to me. "If it's concentrated in your leg, then it cannot reach the other areas of the body, and then you will do just as miserably doing your calisthenics than if your leg was still weak."

"I still have this damn limp though," I mumbled, swinging my leg back and forth as I stood there in front of him.

"You mentioned that the femur was shattered when you were shot, right?"

"Yeah. And now I have a rod and plates in my leg holding it together."

"Well, I admit I'm not a doctor, but I'm just speculating. It's possible that the length of the femur was shortened slightly when the doctors were putting you back together. The muscles were damaged badly too, right?"

"Right. I did say it took me four months to learn to walk again."

He cleared his throat. "In that case, it's also possible that the muscles are still healing."

"After this long? It's been, what, seven months?"

"Rocío, remember that I said I was only speculating," he said with an impish grin, throwing his hands up in front of him as if in surrender. "I'm probably way off the mark."

I frowned. "I hope you are. I have no plans to sit out the Olympics next year."

Kenneth grinned again. "I like your attitude. Now, you ready to learn something today?"

"Like always."

-----

For two months now, I'd been residing in Sacramento, and for the most part, I'd gotten used to life here. It was way quieter than MegaTokyo was, so it took a little while to get used to that as well as the slower pace of life here. The lack of Boomer rampages was comforting; after all, until a year ago, they were obsolete back home, so it was a relief. I just wished that my mom and the other Knight Sabers could've had that same comfort.

"What're you doing for Thanksgiving break, Rosho?" Xania asked me one day after school as we were walking through the student parking lot.

"I guess I'll be spending it with Mikhaila's family," I responded dryly. "What else would I be doing?"

She grinned. "Well, are you guys goin' anywhere?"

"Honestly, I don't know. It's not for a couple weeks, why are you asking about it now?"

"Just curious, that's all."

"What are YOU doing for the break?"

"Oh, my foster mom and I are gonna go to Montana and spend it with her family there."

"You don't look too thrilled about it," I pointed out. "Are they total pricks like your foster mom is?"

Xania nodded. "Yep. I envy you."

"You're not the only one who has to spend it wallowing in misery. I gotta put up with Mikhaila of all people," I joked, chuckling.

"You've been here two months. I thought putting up with her during the holidays would be nothing new to you," she snickered.

"Well, I haven't seen how she acts when there's turkey and cranberry sauce at the table, so I guess I'll have to find out the hard way."

As we climbed onto my bike, Xania added one more thing. "Y'know how they say Thanksgiving is all about how the Pilgrims celebrated with the Indians and shit?"

"Um…yeah," I lied; I didn't know jack about what the holiday was about.

"Well, wanna know why I celebrate it?"

"Why?"

"For the food, what else?"

She laughed, and I couldn't help but laugh myself as I slipped on my helmet and started up the bike. "I should've known!"

"Yes, you should've," she teased, slapping me playfully across the back.

I drove us out of the parking lot and down the street, weaving around the traffic with ease. I thought for a moment, then asked, "Oh, Xania! How's your boyfriend doing? I don't think I've seen him around your house lately."

"Huh?"

"Y'know, that blond guy."

"Oh! Greg?"

"Yeah, that's him. What happened to him?"

I heard a low chuckle from her as she tightened her grip around my waist. "We're not an item anymore. I thought you knew."

I let out a sigh and grimaced in disgust. The stories were true, after all. "May I ask why? Or is that a stupid thing to do, to have to ask?"

Xania laughed. "That was the longest I've ever stuck with one guy. But I will admit, it was a lovely time we had together."

"How long were you two together?"

"We first hooked up about two weeks before you came, so about two months."

"That's IT?"

She laughed again and said, "Yeah! I got bored of him. He wasn't doing anything that he hadn't already done before, so I ditched him."

"I think I've heard too much already," I groaned as I turned the corner onto another street.

"Honestly, Rosho. He was a stallion in bed. He always had a trick up his sleeve, and I guess that's why I stayed with him for so long. But lemme put it this way: if you ate pizza at every meal for a month, you'd get sick of it, right?"

"Uh, right."

"Yeah. So Greg was just like a pizza. Eventually I just got sick of 'im. I need some variety in my life, y'know? Something to spice things up a little bit."

"So…you basically got bored of him?"

"Duh! He was great in bed, trust me, but I just started to get bored with him."

"Xania, can I say something?"

"Sure. Shoot."

"You're pathetic."

She laughed loudly. "I know! I'm just so hard to please, aren't I!"

"Well, judging from the noise you made whenever you locked yourself in the bedroom with him…" I let my voice trail off, and rolled my eyes in sarcasm as we pulled up into Irodia's driveway. Xania just laughed as she climbed off, her tail flipping back and forth.

"Like I said, he's great! Feel free to try him out anytime! You'll say the same thing!"

I blushed and frowned as I took off my helmet. "I hope you're joking."

She just grinned again. "Of course I am. I know you're saving yourself for someone who might prove worthy."

"I'm saving myself for someone who won't just get in my pants, then throw me out right afterwards. If I ever do it, I want it to be with the man I'm gonna be with for the rest of my life."

"I think I can help you."

"With what? The man part or the bed part?" I asked dryly.

"Both," she joked. "No, not really. Juliana is having a pool party at her house this weekend. She invited tons of people."

"This is the first I'VE heard of it."

"She said she didn't know if you'd want to go or not."

"Sure, I'll go. But I don't want you playing matchmaker, ok? Forgive me, but I don't trust your taste in men."

"Heh, fine. You think your taste is any better?"

"I've dealt with enough bastards in my life. I'm sure my radar can detect one from a hundred miles away. Don't need to worry about me," I said, half-joking.

"After what you did to those two guys who were playing with your bike when you first got here, I don't need to," she said, laughing as we both headed inside the house.

_God, what am I doing?_ I thought. _I don't have time for a relationship!_ A pool party did sound like a lot of fun, except for the 'pool' part of it. I still didn't care for water very much, and on top of that, even though this was California, I hadn't brought a swimming suit along. _Oh well, maybe I just won't go into the pool. Maybe I'll just sit and crisp in the sun all afternoon long,_ I thought dryly. _Not like anybody is begging to see my scars, anyway…_

_-----_

"Ugh. Don't tell me you're gonna go too," Mikhaila groaned when she saw me slathering on some sunblock.

"What's wrong with me going?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow. "I'm free to go if I want to. And besides, Xania said Juliana was too shy to ask me."

She smirked. "Mom looked a little worried when you told her you were going. What's wrong, you afraid of water?"

"I'm not afraid of it, per se, I'm just…not fond of it," I said quickly, rubbing the lotion on my neck.

"What's the point of going then?"

"Unlike you, I'm not a sociophobe. So why are YOU going if all you do is stay locked up in your room when you get home?"

"Juliana throws the best parties, but you wouldn't know that."

"I will once I've been to one," I deadpanned.

"If Rocío wants to go to Juliana's party, I don't see the harm in it," Irodia suddenly said, walking into the room. "She needs to get out and meet new people anyway, and Mikhaila, you should too. Did you remember to put on some sunscreen?"

"Yeah," I said, holding up the bottle.

"No," Mikhaila groaned.

Irodia took the bottle from me and handed it to Mikhaila. "You oughta know that us redheads are very fair-skinned," she joked. "We need sunscreen more than anybody. Put some on unless you want your skin to be redder than your hair."

Mikhaila grunted as she took the bottle and walked out of the room.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Irodia asked as she sat down next to me.

"I'll be fine," I said. "Not like I'm planning to go in the pool anyway. I don't have a swimsuit."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she exclaimed.

"Why would I? Wouldn't a swimsuit just show everybody my scars?"

"Not if it's a one-piece."

"I don't like one-pieces," I said nonchalantly, then sighed. "Aw hell, not like it's gonna matter if they see 'em or not. Maybe they'll show Mikhaila just what I've gone through, and that she can't possibly complain about how 'boring' her life is."

"This is Mikhaila you're talking about," Irodia said dryly. "You couldn't get her to say anything different if you had a gun to her head. She's very stubborn in her opinions and attitude."

"No kidding," I groaned. "Then again, maybe it'd be a GOOD idea to show people my scars!"

"W…why's that?"

I grinned and replied, "It'll show people not to mess with me, that's why. And that I've faced things way tougher than them."

"Are you assuming you're going to be hit on?"

"If the guys here are like the guys back home, then yes."

-----

After I first heard about the pool party Juliana was throwing, I was a little bit surprised. After all, how many pool parties are thrown in November? But considering this was California, it shouldn't have come as much of a surprise. What was definitely a surprise, though, was how many people showed up. I was expecting five, maybe ten people. But at least twenty showed up, showing off their summer tans even though it was now fall, and me, I could tell I was the only one who didn't have a swimming suit, but I didn't really care.

Unfortunately, Juliana did.

"Rocío, you didn't bring your bathing suit?" she asked when I showed up in normal garb. "What's wrong, not a fan of the pool?"

"Actually, I figured I'd come here to meet some people," I said, rolling my eyes. "I needed to get out of the house anyway."

"Follow me," she said, grabbing my hand.

Juliana dragged me inside her house and up the stairs to her bedroom. Once inside, she shut the door behind us and started digging through one of her dresser drawers. After a few seconds, she smiled and took out a dark green bikini, holding up the two pieces in her hands.

"I don't need to borrow one of your bikinis. I'm fine, really!" I protested.

"C'mon, what's the point of a pool party if you can't get in the pool? Besides, you look about my size, so I'm sure this'll fit."

I felt my cheeks turn red. I didn't know whether to be flattered or embarrassed. "Really, I don't need to—"

"Pleeeease?" she begged.

"No, I'm fine!" I said firmly, shaking my head. I really didn't think that anyone was THAT curious about my scars; I'd decided that on my own on the way here. What was wrong with keeping them to myself?

"Rosho, put it on!" I heard Xania cheer from the other side of the door.

"Xania? How did you know I was up here?" I exclaimed.

"I saw Jul drag you up here! C'mon, put it on, show off that bod of yours!"

"I'd really rather not!"

"Xania said you're a gymnast," Juliana said. "Bikinis show off your body just as much as leotards do, right?"

I sighed and gave in, snatching the two pieces of the bikini from her hands. "Fine, fine, you two win. But I'll just say right now that I'm not responsible for any damage incurred from looking at me in this thing."

"Why, green isn't your color?" she joked.

"Trust me, it's not that," I said flatly, ushering her out of the room so I could change. _What am I doing?_ I asked myself as I took off my shirt and bra, putting on the bikini top. I looked down at my stomach and saw the scars dotting it. The long scar that I had acquired at the summit, plus the four stab wounds that had healed up… The long scar I actually almost didn't mind; it reminded me of what I had survived, but the four smaller ones…they made me feel like I'd been marked for life, and reminded me all the more of why I was in the States and not in Tokyo.

"To hell with Boh," I mumbled to myself as I pulled off my jeans, leg sleeve, and panties, replacing them with the bikini bottom. "I've healed, and that's all that matters."

I turned and looked at myself in the full-length mirror that Juliana had in her room, and mustered a grin. This bikini really did make me look good, in spite of my scars. I struck a pose and turned my body every which way I could, only to grimace when I realized what the guys that were at the party were probably gonna say when they caught a glance of me.

"To hell with them too," I said aloud, casting those thoughts aside as I opened the door and marched down the stairs. I took a few deep breaths; I had no idea what kind of remarks I'd get when these people would get a look at my battle scars, but I didn't really care. They were entitled to their opinions, however bigoted they might've been, but of course, that never stopped me from trying to change those opinions.

I took a look outside into the back yard. A swarm of kids were out there, swimming in the pool, gathered at the barbecue grill, or just lounging in the sun. I sighed and scratched the side of my head. This was a trap that I felt like I'd just literally walked into.

"Well…here goes," I mumbled, sliding open the door and stepping outside. I walked casually towards the grill, where an older man was preparing hamburgers and hot dogs. On the way there, I could practically feel everyone's eyes boring into me. I turned my head to look at the pool, and several kids had slowed down their swimming to look at me. I snorted and turned away, tossing my hair over my shoulders, practically flaunting my back scar.

"Hi," I said to the man at the barbecue.

"Hi there," he said, grinning at me. The grin quickly disappeared when he saw the scars on my stomach. "W-what can I, uh, help you with?"

"Could I have a cheeseburger with pickles and ketchup?"

He eyed me up and down nervously for a moment, then said, "Sure. It'll be ready in a minute."

"What happened to YOU?" one boy chuckled behind me. I turned around to face him. "Were you in World War III or something?"

"How is it your business?" I inquired, folding my arms over my chest.

"Well, you look like it. Looks like ya got sliced and diced."

"I'll be honest and say I came damn close," I hissed, grabbing him by the neck. "If you want scars like mine, I'll be more than happy to give you your own set." I let go of his neck, then traced over my long scar with my index finger and added, "I almost died when I got this one. If you want that experience, feel free to call me."

"Hey, I didn't say I wanted my own set," he grumbled, his eyebrow twitching. "I'd rather have those be a one-of-a-kind deal."

"Then don't make any more smart-ass comments," I snapped.

"Kid, your burger's ready!" the man called out from behind me.

"Thanks," I said sweetly as I grabbed a paper plate and put the burger on it. As I made a beeline for the table of appetizers, several guys stepped out of my way, apparently not wanting any trouble from me. I smirked and grabbed some potato chips, then scooped up some beans and put them on the plate. As I put a potato chip in my mouth, I looked around the yard for any familiar faces. After a moment, I saw Xania sitting at a table with Juliana, Sara, and Karen.

"Hey Rosho!" Xania yelled, waving at me. "Come over here!" I smiled and did so, limping the whole way. Juliana, Karen, and Sara just stared at me, jaws agape.

"Don't look so shocked," I said dryly, sitting down. "I said my dad beat me up, remember?"

"Well, yeah…" Sara agreed. "But geez, I didn't know how bad it was."

"Now you do."

"You don't look surprised," Karen said to Xania.

"She showed me her stomach scars before," Xania said. "But this is the first I've seen of her leg ones." She shoved a forkful of macaroni salad in her mouth.

"I don't care what anybody thinks of them," I snapped. "They're my scars, I'm the one who dons them 24-7, not them!" I took a few stabs at my beans with the fork and shoved them in my mouth. What did it matter what anyone else thought of 'em? This was likely the only time they'd be getting a free peek at them, anyway.

"Ever thought about getting them removed?" Karen asked. "I don't think it costs that much."

"I wanna keep some of them," I said.

"Why the hell wouldja wanna do that?"

"'Cause they remind me of what I've gone through. Sometimes, I…don't wanna remember, but I don't really wanna forget either. Does that seem silly?"

Xania took a sip of her drink and shook her head. "Not to me, it doesn't. It's your body, if you wanna keep the scars, then keep 'em. I ain't tellin' ya any different."

"She's right," Juliana suddenly spoke up. "We can't tell you what to do with them, Rocío."

"Thanks," I said, managing a weak smile. "At least YOU guys don't poke fun at me and say that I look like I've been through World War III." I glared at the guy that had made that comment.

"Well…" Karen started to say. "You DO look like you've been through hell."

"I already told you how I got the scars, didn't I?"

"Yeah. But to actually see the scars from 'em is a completely different story."

"Xania? What're you looking at?" Sara asked, tapping her on the shoulder.

"Not what, who," Xania corrected, grinning as she pointed at a guy in the far corner of the swimming pool. He had brown hair which was slicked back by the water, and a deep tan. "Don't he look like a hottie?"

"You sure he's not a previous lover of yours?" she giggled.

"I'm sure." She took off her shades and set them next to her plate. "Keep an eye on my stuff, ok?" She ran past me and dived right into the pool. I held up my arm to shield me from the resulting splash.

"Doesn't take much for her to go after someone, does it," I remarked.

"If he looks good, she'll go for the gold," Sara said, giggling again. "That's just how Xania is. Didn't you know?"

"I've only been here two months, of course not," I said dryly. "Hmm, take a look at her talking to him."

Sara and I both watched as Xania swam up to the guy she'd been ogling, and struck up a conversation with him. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but it looked like he was starting to get into her. And suddenly, I could see Xania frown as he made a remark and laughed to himself. She raised her arm and slapped him across the face.

"Fuck you!" she yelled as she climbed out of the pool, swinging her tail out of the way when the guy reached to grab it. She came back towards our table, looking really pissed off.

"What happened?" I asked. "Wasn't your type?"

"Did he shoot you down?" Sara asked innocently, sipping her drink.

"He didn't shoot me down," Xania spat. "But I'll just say that no guy insults a friend of mine and gets away with it."

"Was it about me?" I asked.

"Yeah. He was calling you the Scar Girl and generally just making some, well, not-so-flattering comments. I ain't gonna be with no guy that insults my friends like that."

"But if he hadn't said those things, you would've taken him to your place eventually, right?"

She smirked. "Maybe. I was really into him until he made those bullshit comments. That was a total turnoff."

"Probably one of those womanizer types, a guy that treats women like property," I guessed. "Maybe it was for the best, anyway."

"You're not pissed he made those comments?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow.

I shook my head. "He can say whatever he wants. But if he says it to my face, he's in for an ass-kicking."

"Want me to bring him over? I can if you want."

"No. I'll get around to it when I meet him myself. The bastard won't know what hit him."

"Y'mean like those two guys you beat up that were messing with your motorcycle?" Juliana asked, chuckling.

"You heard about that?"

"Yeah! Xania told us all about it!"

I looked at Xania, who merely gave me the peace sign and grinned innocently as she put her shades back on. "Yeah, like that," I finally said.

"Y'know, Rocío, you really do look good in that bikini. You can keep it if you want."

"No, that's alright."

"Really, you can! Green's not exactly my color. It doesn't go with blond hair very well," she joked, running a hand through her hair.

"Say," Karen suddenly spoke up, "what're we sittin' here for anyway? This is a POOL party, ain't it? So let's go swimming!" She made a mad dash past me and yelled, "Cannonball!" as she leapt into the pool. Once again, I had to hold up my arms to shield me from the ensuing splash.

"You heard her! Let's go!" Xania declared, standing up. She grabbed my hand and started leading me towards the pool.

"No, you can go," I said quickly, planting my feet firmly on the ground. "Besides, isn't that guy you were hitting on still in the pool?"

"Ah, screw him. C'mon, let's go get wet!" She walked behind me and gave me a shove.

"No!" I yelled, waving my arms to the sides to keep from falling forward. Being hydrophobic was embarrassing enough; showing everybody that I was would only add to it. I was gonna keep it to myself if I could help it.

"C'mon in," Mikhaila suddenly said, popping up from the water as she grabbed my ankle. "The water's fine."

"I'd rather not," I said, feeling myself go pale.

She pulled on my ankle, making me yelp in surprise. "What's the matter, Rocío?" she inquired with an evil grin. "Not fond of water?"

"It's not my most favorite thing in the world, no. Let go!"

"Not until you come in," she said, yanking harder. I almost lost my balance, and tried to pull back from her again.

"Go on, let's see ya swim," I heard a guy say from behind me, followed immediately by a forceful shove. It more than caught me off guard; I went stumbling forward, and screamed as I found myself falling face-first into the pool, Mikhaila darting out of the way.

I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut as the water went rushing into my mouth and up my nose, flailing my arms and legs. I tried to swim upwards, but I felt a pair of hands press on my head and push down, keeping me under. I was in total panic by now; I tried to pry the person's hands off my head, but they held fast. _Lemme up, lemme up!_ I thought, my lungs starting to burn for want of air.

And suddenly, the hands let go of my head, and I felt someone else grab my arm and drag me to the surface. Once I got my head above water, I instantly started coughing and gasping for air, dragging myself onto dry ground.

"Shit, you ok, Rosho?" Xania asked, patting my back as I coughed up water.

"What the…hell do you think?" I spat, shaking all over. What a horrid joke to play!

"Damn, you're freakin' scared of water!" I heard Mikhaila exclaim from behind me, a trace of joy in her voice. "I didn't believe it till I saw it!"

"Just shut up," I growled, spinning around on her. "That wasn't funny at all."

"Well, at least I know the almighty Rocío's weak point," she said gleefully.

I was about to jump up and run to deck her in the face, but Xania held me back. "Before you punch her face in, you might wanna kick that guy's ass first. The one who pushed you in," she said, smirking.

"Where is he?" I demanded, sweeping my drenched bangs out of my eyes.

"Right over there," she said, pointing to the barbecue grill, at the guy who was eating some potato chips and grinning mischievously. "He's the one I was hitting on a couple minutes ago."

"Ok, you son of a bitch," I spat, marching up to him. "What made you think that would be funny, huh?"

"It was a joke," he said simply, grinning.

"Like hell it was. Xania was saying you were badmouthing me earlier, and I don't take kindly to that, especially the Scar Girl part of it. I do have my share of scars, but it's none of your business how I got them, and you don't have any right to be teasing me about them. There's plenty of stories behind them, and as much as I'd love to sit down and tell them to you, I know better than to waste my breath on a thick-headed peon like you. You couldn't begin to imagine the hell I've gone through." I pounded my left leg with my fist. "I said to my best friend once that I wouldn't wish the experience upon anybody, but now I think I've changed my mind about that."

"What, just from that one shove?" he inquired, chuckling as he idly itched his cheek with one finger. "Damn, you're no fun at all, no sense of humor."

"After what I've been through, the LAST thing I wanna see is a joke played on me! After a while, everything just stops being funny, but you wouldn't know about that, right?" I asked with a hint of irony.

Before he could answer, I continued. "I don't give a shit what your answer is, because I already know that you haven't an iota of a clue what the hell I'm talking about. But trust me, you don't wanna see what I've seen." My voice grew steadily darker as I went on. "I hope you're comfortable in your little cave, because sooner or later, you're gonna have to come out into the real world, and then, maybe, if you're lucky, you'll experience a little bit of what I have."

"Uh…what the hell are you talking about?" he asked, confused.

"See? I knew you wouldn't get it. All I'm saying is, you chose the wrong person to play a joke on, because frankly, I've become a very cynical person, much more than I was before. And it may have been a joke to you, but for me, it was anything but. So just keep the hell away from me and Xania if you know what's good for you."

"…Whatever," he mumbled, walking away.

"Man, Rosho, you told HIM off," Xania remarked, looking impressed, but confused at the same time.

"I don't even know what I was talking about!" I admitted. "I just went off on a rant there!"

"No you didn't," she said softly. "I know what you were saying, and you said it great. You've been through some rough shit, and so nothing is a joke to you anymore. That sums it up right there."

I meekly scratched the side of my head and turned to look at her. "You said you'd been through some rough times yourself. So…I guess you DID understand what I was saying."

"No fucking kidding," she said, frowning as she nodded solemnly. "You said it better than I ever could've. Sorry for trying to drag you into the pool, Rosho. I guess I should've seen it from the way you were acting."

"Try not to tell everybody about my hydrophobia, ok?" I asked with a joking tone. "It's still embarrassing for people to know about it. And I forgive you."

"That's good." She thought for a moment, then asked, "Well, how 'bout we go grab some more grub? We'll avoid the pool if you want."

I smiled and chuckled. "Sure, that'd be great. Anything but the pool!"

-----

After the pool party was over, Sara gave Xania and Mikhaila a ride home while I rode my motorcycle. As I recalled when Mikhaila tried to pull me in over and over, I grew steadily more pissed off. Even Maru had had her limits, but Mikhaila…she was entirely different. Even so, I'm sure she and Maru would've gotten along just great. It made me wonder just how a girl like her could've come out of two great people like Irodia and Tyler. Maybe it was something similar to that one saying about geniuses giving birth to idiots and idiots giving birth to geniuses. _Talk about a way to balance out nature, god damn,_ I thought in disbelief.

When I got back to the house, it was almost dark outside, and Mikhaila had apparently gotten back before I did, because when I opened the door and took off my sandals, there she was, on the couch reading a book, acting like an angel.

I marched over to her and ordered, "Get up."

"What?" She looked up at me over the edge of her book. "Why?"

"Just do it before I make you."

Mikhaila put a bookmark in her book, closed it, then stood up, folding her arms over her chest. "Ok, what do you want?"

I cracked my knuckle, then with all the strength I could muster, punched her right across the face, making her head snap to the side. Before she could react, I grabbed her by the shirt and jerked her so that we were face to face.

"Ok, you," I hissed through clenched teeth. "You KNOW that I don't like water. You knew it before we went to that party today. So what made you decide to try to drag me in the pool anyway, although you saw how much I freaked out?"

"C'mon, who's afraid of WATER of all things?" she retorted.

"Well, apparently there's at least one person in this world who is," I snapped. "You think I like to go around and FLAUNT it? Do you? Trust me, it's embarrassing to live with it, and I wasn't planning on letting anyone know anytime soon! But what you did today…that was just downright low. Do you enjoy tormenting people so much?"

"I was just seeing if it was true," she said, making a bad attempt at acting innocent. "I thought you were just trying to get out of getting into the pool."

"I would've thought of something better than saying I'm hydrophobic, don't you think? The ONLY reason I went today was because I figured I should get out and get to know people better. But apparently, that didn't work. Instead, a lot of people got to know ME, which was not what I was shooting for."

"You're acting like I was the one who shoved you in!" she protested.

"In a way, you did. You just encouraged that other guy to push me in when you grabbed me and tried to pull me in. You're lucky I didn't just kick you in the face right then and there." I let go of her shirt and shoved her away. "Don't pull anything like that again."

Mikhaila just snorted and smoothed out her shirt, not even paying notice to her new black eye. "Jesus Christ, Rocío, you're acting like I shoved you out into the street in broad daylight stark naked. Now THAT would've been embarrassing."

"Remind me to do that to YOU someday," I said as I headed to my room and shut the door.

Shortly afterwards, Irodia and Tyler got home; Irodia had said that since me and Mikhaila would be out of the house, she and Tyler would be going to the movies. Just like I predicted, Mikhaila blabbed to them about how I punched her, and showed them her black eye to prove it. Neither of them were too happy with me.

"I really wish you would learn to control yourself," Irodia chided. "What made you think that punching her would do any good?"

"It didn't," I admitted, "but I had to teach her a lesson for trying to pull me in. She KNEW I was hydrophobic, but did it anyway just for the hell of it! What do you want me to do, just grin and bear it? I've NEVER been that type of person, and I'm not gonna start now!"

"I'm not asking you to," she said. "But you don't want to sink to her level, either."

"Isn't SHE getting punished for any of this? I feel like I'm the only one getting punished, and for defending myself, no less!"

"Tyler already punished her. She won't be allowed to go shopping with her friends for a week."

"Oh, like THAT'S gonna do any good. She could just do that online."

"Nope. Tyler took away her debit card too."

I couldn't help but snicker; the poor baby wouldn't be getting her fix for a while! Who cared if she'd lash out at me for it? At least she'd be getting her just desserts, sort of.

-----

The following Monday at school, it seemed like everybody knew about what I had done to Mikhaila at Juliana's pool party. Most kids agreed with me and said that she could go a little too far at times, and deserved that black eye I had given her. Karen and Vicky, however, weren't quite as much in agreement. After gym class, the two of them approached me, not looking happy at all.

"Rocío, what made you think that you could punch her?" Karen snapped. "We're supposed to have fun at pool parties, not get pissed off!"

"Well, she got me pissed off. Too bad for her," I said nonchalantly. "How can you be friends with a bully like her?"

"Just gotta learn to get on her good side," Vicky said. "Isn't that what you're supposed to do with friends, not get on their bad side?"

"She's not my friend, and never will be," I retorted. "I live with her, but that's as close as we're gonna get."

"I thought you woulda learned to live with her attitude by now."

"I live with it, but it doesn't mean I have to like it. She's even worse than some of the girls I knew back home."

"Well, guess what, you're not home anymore," Karen said.

"That's been made painfully clear to me many times, thank you," I said dryly. "Don't rub it in my face."

"You're impossible," she said, rolling her eyes as she walked away. I started to do the same, but Vicky put a hand on my shoulder, stopping me.

"Rocío," she said, "Mikhaila, like all people, has a reputation to maintain. If you think you can just punch her like that and not expect any repercussions, you're wrong."

"I'm not naïve, Vicky. I know full well she's gonna try to get back at me."

"Just warning you, she's going to try to look for a weak spot to exploit."

"She already did that at the pool party," I pointed out, frowning.

"No no, that's not what I meant. She's gonna look for something else besides the obvious, something that's a little more subtle. And considering you've been living with her for the past two months, she probably already knows what to do. I'd just be careful if I were you."

"Why are you telling me about this?" I inquired.

"You've been through a lot, and I think that Mikhaila is gonna try to exploit some part of that. I don't like seeing people hurt, so I'm just warning you to prepare yourself."

"Why don't you just go talk to her and tell her not to pull anything?"

"She won't listen to me. I'm not as close to her as Juliana and Sara are. And besides, once she's set a plan in motion, it's impossible to derail her."

"Well…thanks for warning me," I said as I pulled myself away from her and headed down the hallway towards my locker.

Having been here for two months, I guess it should've come as no surprise that Mikhaila could be pretty devious. But the question was, what would she be trying to pull? I hadn't known her quite long enough to predict her moves to the T, but somehow I had the feeling that she would be making her move pretty soon. _Damn, this is almost like trying to predict Genom's next move!_, I thought. _What's she going to do? Or is Vicky just making me worry over nothing?_ No, it couldn't be that; Vicky had proved to be a trustworthy person, and to me even seemed like a slightly more mature and less bubbly version of Michiko. Maybe that was why I was quick to trust her on her word.

-----

After I arrived back at the house after my tai chi lesson with Kenneth, I made sure to keep an eye on Mikhaila at all times, trying not to give her the opportunity to do anything. But it didn't take her long to notice I had my eye on her.

"What the hell are you doing, stalking me?" she yelled, snapping her head up from her homework when she noticed me looking at her subtly from the doorway.

"I'm going to my room. It's right next to yours," I said nonchalantly.

"I see you watching me! You think I don't notice or something?"

"That's nonsense, Mikhaila," Irodia said, walking up next to me. "Why would Rocío be keeping an eye on you? It's not like you have a chance to try to pull her into a swimming pool again."

"It's her fault she's scared of water! There's no way anybody can b—"

"Well, apparently there is. There's also a phobia of having peanut butter stick to the roof of your mouth. It really exists, I'll look up the word myself if you want."

"You're kidding," Mikhaila said, dumbfounded.

"No, I'm not. Now just keep your voice down and do your homework."

"Speaking of homework, I guess I should do mine," I groaned, heading back into my room. Better to just do it than to have Irodia hounding me about it for the next few hours. And I think she knew it, because as I cracked open one of my textbooks, I saw her grin out of the corner of my eye and head down the hallway.

And then, I heard Mackie's voice in my head…something that he had said while me and the Knight Sabers were on watch at the summit… "_Yumeko, doing her homework? What has the world come to?_"

"Yeah yeah, so I'm doing my homework, so what?" I muttered to myself, writing down the answers to some of the questions in my textbook that I had to answer. The others had always acted like it was a miracle of the world or something. I DID do it every so often, what was so miraculous about them catching me doing it? I sighed and wrote on.

To my left, I could feel a pair of eyes boring into me. But when I looked up to see who or what it was, only the picture of me and Michiko greeted me. I sighed as I realized that it must have been Michiko watching me…or maybe it was just my imagination. But even if it was, I didn't care. I reached up and brushed her cheek with one finger, gazing at her brown eyes that seemed so filled with life, eyes that were filled with hope for the future, one that she would never have. I sighed as I directed my eyes to the necklace around her neck, the one that I now wore around my own, albeit without the amber heart that came with it. But it seemed fitting, somehow, that the heart was missing. After all, Boh had had no heart of his own; he was just a heartless, soulless monster, built for killing and killing alone.

_I still feel like there's something missing, Michiko,_ I said in my head as I closed the textbook; I couldn't concentrate on it now. _I killed Boh, but…I still feel like I haven't done all I possibly could to avenge you. But what is it? Tell me…_

I changed into my large shirt and boxer shorts, keeping Michiko's necklace around my neck, and as I turned off the lamp and curled up under the covers, I idly twirled the necklace around my finger, watching the moonlight catch on it as I twirled. _Something's missing…but what is it? How do I find out? How do I figure out what it is?_


	2. Punch and vodka

When I woke up the next morning to do my 5:30 jog, I checked to make sure all of my things were still where they were; God knew what Mikhaila was going to pull. I changed into my sports bra and stretch pants, tied back my hair, then went out for the jog. It was strange, this mood I was in; I normally wasn't one to worry about someone pulling a trick on me, but then again, like I had said to that guy at the pool party, the last thing I was in the mood for was a bad joke. And when it came to bad jokes, Mikhaila almost seemed like the Queen of Hearts.

Determined to put her out of my mind, I went back to the house after my jog and decided to head to Xania's place early, just to avoid seeing that redhead. As a result, I was out of the house before 6:30 in the morning, and I knew Xania was going to be more than annoyed, but I decided I was going to entice her into waking up a little earlier.

When I reached her house, I hopped off the motorcycle, a paper bag in one hand and my helmet in the other as I walked up to the door. Setting down the helmet, I knocked on the door, and after a moment, her foster mom answered.

"You're a bit early, aren't you, Rocío?" she inquired, frowning slightly.

_Hey, she actually looks like she's in a GOOD mood,_ I thought dryly. "Yeah, I am. Is Xania up yet?" I asked.

"Not yet, but it's about time for her to be." She looked down at the bag in my hand. "What's in there?"

"Just a little treat for her, sort of a reward for her getting up earlier than she absolutely has to," I replied cheekily.

"Come in," she said reluctantly, stepping aside to let me enter.

I stepped inside, then when Mrs. Peters actually decided to let me go and wake Xania up, I set my helmet down and walked up the stairs to her room. The door was shut, and when I knocked, there was no answer. I knocked again, this time a little harder, and this time all I got was a low groan.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," I said aloud as I opened the door slowly. "Wake up, you."

Xania pulled the sheets over her head, groaning. "Not time yeeeet…"

"C'mon, it's only ten minutes earlier than the time you normally get up at. Get up."

"Uh-uh."

"Yes-huh. I got somethin' for ya."

"Five more minutes," she groaned, holding up her hand, all five fingers spread out.

"Don't make me pull the covers off of you."

"I wouldn't do—" Xania's mom started to say from behind me, but before she could finish, I reached over and yanked back her sheets, and jumped back in surprise when I saw Xania had no clothes on whatsoever.

"HEY!" she protested, jumping up and covering herself with her hands. "What the hell!"

"I tried to warn you," Xania's mom said nonchalantly.

"J…just put on some clothes," I managed to stammer, blushing heavily. "I'll wait downstairs."

I stumbled down the stairs, my face still cherry-red, while Xania's mom followed me, a rare smile creeping across her face. "I thought you knew she sleeps nude," she said, chuckling.

"Um…I didn't," I said. "Now I do. Remind me never to do that again."

"I have the feeling I'll have to do just that."

"Isn't there some Christian law against sleeping nude?" I quipped. "Thought you'd have a problem with it."

"We're all born nude. Nudity is a natural thing. It's one of the few things I actually don't have a problem with her doing, as long as she's by herself and not with some man. I expect her to have SOME measure of decent clothing on when there's a man around."

I snickered in response. But before she could open her mouth to say something, Xania came down the stairs, looking a little pissed at being woken up so suddenly.

"So what was this thing you had for me?" she asked tiredly, yawning as she ran a hand through her tangled hair.

"Here." I handed her the bag, and when she reached in, she squealed and held up some donuts.

"Hey, cool! Free breakfast!" she exclaimed. "What's this for?"

"For being a good sport about getting up early," I quipped. Xania just snickered.

"Right, right. What're you here so early for, anyway?"

"Just wanted to get out of the house without seeing Mikhaila."

"Oh, I get it." She took a bite out of one of the donuts and offered me the other, which I declined. "Mom, we're gonna go now, ok?"

"That's fine, Xania. Just don't ditch again," Mrs. Peters warned, eyeing the both of us.

"We won't," I assured her jokingly as I grabbed my helmet and headed out the door, Xania following me.

"It's a miracle!" Xania remarked as we got on my motorcycle and headed off.

"What's a miracle?" I asked.

"She actually called me Xania instead of my real name!"

_Gee, that explains a lot,_ I thought dryly. "I kinda figured that wasn't your real name. What IS your real name, anyway?" I felt a little embarrassed that I had to ask. I'd known her for two months, and I still didn't know it. I hadn't even heard her mom call her by name, by ANY sort of name.

Xania paused, and after a moment, reluctantly said, "…Do you really want to know?"

"Sure I do! Can't be that bad!"

"…Bridget."

"That's your real name?"

Xania flushed and fidgeted for a moment as she tightened her grip around my waist. "Yeah."

"I don't see anything wrong with it," I said, holding in a laugh.

"Sure you do! You're trying not to crack up! You think it's just hilarious, don't you!" she protested.

"No, no, don't mind me," I laughed. I finally had to park alongside the road to keep from swerving all over, I was laughing so hard. I could not picture that name on her! Bridget! It sounded so…formal! And Xania certainly was not a formal type of girl!

"See why I chose the name Xania?" she groaned. "It actually sounds cool, unlike Bridget."

"You're right, I do see why you go by that name now," I said, chuckling. "It suits you a lot more than…Bridget…" I started to crack up again.

"Stop laughing!" she yelled, looking more than annoyed at my reaction. I swore I could see her blush a little bit too.

"Ok, Bridget," I joked.

"I'm gonna regret having ever said that, aren't I," she mumbled to herself as I started up the bike and headed down the street again.

"Yes, I think you will," I said, still chuckling lightly. "…Bridget."

"Shut the hell up about that Bridget name! I'm Xania mother-fuckin' Peters, not Bridget Jones or whatever the hell her name is!"

"Sorry, sorry, I'll try to stop," I said, not able to stop grinning. "It's just funny!"

"How'd you like me to start calling you by your middle name, Rosho? Wanna start being called María instead? María María María!"

"Hey now!" I protested lightheartedly, laughing. "That's not fair!"

Of course, it was better than having her call me by my REAL name, Yumeko. But at the same time that we were teasing each other about our names, I inwardly longed to hear someone call out my real name. In coming to California, I had lost everything. My mom, and my friends, they weren't here. They were over in Tokyo. I had even lost my name. I just wanted something to call my own here, and I couldn't find a damn thing to do so with.

"Oh, _solo mííííooo. _My sweet Maríííía!" she sang.

"Ok, I'll stop!" I joked. "Enough of that!"

"No more Bridget then. I'll only stop then."

"All right, no more Bridget!"

"Ok, no more María then."

As we pulled up to the school parking lot, however few kids there were at the school at this early time were there to just stand and stare in disbelief as Xania and me started giggling like crazy. Sure, it was a stupid thing to giggle about, but at least it was something, I guess!

-----

All day at school, although I had told Xania I wouldn't call her by her real name anymore, I kept referring to her by it, and in return, she kept referring to me by my pseudo middle name. In reality I didn't have a middle name, so I pretended to be annoyed and jokingly told her to stop. It was hard enough trying to picture myself as a Rocío or Rosho, let alone a María. Even after two months of being called that, I could still only think of myself as Yumeko. I felt like screaming out loud, "My name is Yumeko Asagiri, not Rocío Monterrey! Rocío never existed! There is only me, the daughter of Priss Asagiri and the purple Knight Saber!"

But of course, I couldn't do such a thing. And if I did, the redhead named Mikhaila Brunstein would be the least of my worries.

On the bright side, me and Xania calling each other by our 'real' names helped distract me from the situation with Mikhaila, and when she, Sara, and Juliana invited me to go to the mall with them after school for what seemed like the five-hundredth time, I conceded and agreed to go, in part because Mikhaila had had her debit card taken away for the week and wouldn't be able to go along.

"Will you think of me when you see that $15 stick of lipstick I love?" Mikhaila asked dryly when Sara dropped her off at her house.

"Sure," I replied in the same tone.

"It's only for a week, Mikky," Sara said in her usual cheerful voice. "You'll survive."

"By then I'll be missing out on the latest fads and be totally out of style," she mumbled.

"Boo-freaking-hoo," I groaned. "See ya later." Xania snickered beside me.

"See? Nothin' to worry about," Xania said as Sara drove us down the street and towards the mall. "Just gotta show her that you're not some wimp who's got no spine."

"I've never been a wimp. The last thing I'm gonna do is let some stuck-up spoiled brat shove me around. I've dealt with bigger things than her."

"That's obvious enough."

"_Sí, olvides sobre Mikhaila_," Sara said, breaking out into her Spanish again. "_Sobrevivirá. Creo que ella puede sobrevivir un día sin mirando a las ropas_."

"_Si crees que sí_," I quipped.

"Translate for me," Juliana suddenly said, looking a little confused.

"She said forget about Mikhaila, that she'll live, and that she thinks Mikhaila can survive a day without looking at clothes."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Xania said, rolling her eyes. "And what was that last remark you made?"

"I said 'If you think so.'"

Juliana and Xania both started to laugh. "Well, I do NOT think so!" Juliana said between bouts of laughter. "Mikhaila's a definite shopaholic."

"Why do you think she took it so hard when Irodia and Tyler took away her debit card?" Xania asked, grinning. "They know it's the ultimate punishment for her."

"And what would taking away that AND her make-up do?" I asked, playing along.

Xania thought for a moment, flipping her tail back and forth as Sara pulled the convertible into the mall parking lot. "Honestly…I have no fucking wish to see WHAT would happen if that happened," she said, snickering. "I think Armageddon would be coming earlier than those wackos in the tabloids are saying."

"Is that possible? The tabloids say every year that the end of the present year is going to be the end of the world," Juliana quipped.

"Well, last I heard, November wasn't the end of the year," Xania replied as everybody got out of the car.

"Close enough to me," I interjected.

"What she said," Sara agreed, chuckling.

"Aw, looks like I'm the only one takin' your side, Juls," Xania said, faking hurt. "Traitors! We're surrounded by traitors! The whole fuckin' lot o' ya are traitors!"

"Y'know…you'd make a good actress," I said, smiling.

Xania stopped in the middle of her melodramatic scene and looked at me. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah. Better than a lot of kids at my old school were, when they tried out for plays."

"I guess I could try out for a play one o' these days," she said, then added wryly, "Unfortunately, I don't think there's any play that stars a spiky-headed girl with a monkey tail."

"Well, with your scenes at church, you do pretty well," I joked.

"Hey!" she yelled, the rest of us cracking up. "Cheap shot!"

While I was laughing, Xania came over to me, grabbed me in a headlock, and started giving me a noogie. "Cheap shot, you little fucker, you!"

"Hey!" I giggled, trying to get out of her grip, but I was laughing so hard it was hard to do much of anything.

"I wish I had a camera!" Sara laughed.

"Cute, you two, real comical," Juliana said, starting to get her breath back. She grinned and said, "People are starting to stare, now let's get going."

"Ok, ok," Xania said, releasing me. I was off-balance, so when she let me go, I dropped to my knees, and after I let out a few more laughs, I ran a hand through my now-messed-up hair and followed behind.

"Giving me a noogie, no fair," I said, still grinning.

"Serves you right," Xania said with a smirk, beating me lightly across the face with her tail.

"You KNOW I'll return the favor someday."

"Yeah, yeah, just try it."

-----

The afternoon flew by faster than I thought it would have. After all, the only person I really went to the mall with was Michiko. But that's not to say it wasn't fun hanging out with Xania, Sara, and Juliana, because it was. It was just a little different; they weren't Michiko, after all.

"Have fun?" Irodia asked when I got back to the house that evening.

"Yeah, I did," I said, grinning. "We didn't even really do that much shopping, though. We were too busy wondering how Mikhaila was gonna get through this week without her debit card."

"That's not funny!" Mikhaila yelled from her bedroom.

"It depends on your sense of humor, that's all," Irodia joked, her voice quiet enough so that Mikhaila wouldn't hear. "Oh, Tyler cooked dinner if you want any."

"What did you cook, Tyler?" I asked, looking at him as he washed dishes in the kitchen.

"Tuna casserole," he replied. I wrinkled my nose at the thought.

"He used his secret recipe," Irodia whispered, snickering. "Don't worry, it's edible."

"Well, anything I've eaten that's been cooked by him so far has been edible," I quipped, biting my cheek, "so I guess I'll try some."

As I took off my jacket and sat down in the dining room, Irodia fixed me a bowl and brought it in. She set it in front of me and said, "What's that look for?"

"It smells fishy," I said, wrinkling my nose again.

"That would be the tuna, Rocío," Tyler joked. "C'mon, tell me how you like it. My wife and daughter aren't honest enough to be true food critics."

"Oh, you," Irodia said, smacking him lightly on the arm.

"How come nobody else is eating?" I inquired, picking up my fork.

"We already ate."

"Oh." I scooped up a forkful of the casserole, and after sniffing it, I shoved it into my mouth. "Mmm! This IS good!" I exclaimed, swallowing it and digging in for more.

"Glad you like it!" Tyler said.

"What kind of mayonnaise did you use? It's really good!"

"Oh, I got it from a local mom-and-pop store about two blocks away. It's one of those kinds you can't find at the major chains."

"Makes sense." I shoved another forkful into my mouth and grinned. "Maybe you could show me how to make it sometime! I wouldn't mind having this more often!"

"Great! Maybe when you're not busy with homework, I'll show you."

"Sure, that'd be great," I agreed.

After I finished off the bowl of tuna casserole, I went back for another bowl, which seemed to thrill Tyler to no end. Once I finished that one, I rinsed off the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, then went to my bedroom to do my homework. But when I got there, I could sense there was something different. Something felt like it was missing. I glanced around, confused for a moment as to what it could be, but when I drew my eyes over the desk for the third or fourth time, I realized what it was.

The spot on the desk next to the dried cherry blossom branch was empty.

"Oh dear God," I said aloud. "The picture…"

I ran around my bed to the desk, looking around it, under it, behind it, in case it had perhaps fallen off. When I couldn't find it, I turned and looked under the bed. Nothing. I threw back the sheets on my bed, looked under the pillow, in the drawers in my desk, but still, it was nowhere to be seen.

"Mikhaila," I growled to myself, trembling all over from anger. I stomped out of the room and down the hallway to her room, and burst open the door. "You bitch!" I yelled, grabbing her and snatching her from her desk.

"What the hell?" she protested.

"Where's that picture? I know you took it!"

"What picture?"

"Oh, you KNOW what picture I'm talking about! The one of me and Michiko that's on my desk! Where the hell is it?" I demanded.

"I didn't take it! Maybe you put it somewhere else!" she suggested, snorting. "And what're you gonna do anyway? Make BOTH my eyes black?"

"I'll do a HELL of a lot more than that if you don't tell me where that picture is!"

"What's going on?" Irodia asked, running into the room, followed by Tyler.

"She took my picture of Michiko!" I said, turning to her while still holding Mikhaila by the shirt.

"How do you know it was her, Rocío?" Tyler asked, undaunted.

"Who else would? She's had it out for me ever since I punched her for shoving me in the pool!"

"Let's talk this out like adults, ok? First, drop my daughter," he ordered.

I grudgingly obeyed. A split-second later, however, I was met with a blow to one side of my face, and my head being jerked to the side. "Don't you ever grab me like that again," Mikhaila growled through gritted teeth as I held a hand to my eye.

"That does it," I said softly before lunging at her. "You're DEAD!"

"Rocío, STOP it!" Irodia said, grabbing me from behind while Mikhaila jumped backwards onto her bed to avoid me.

"Let me go!" I demanded, trying to pull myself out of her grip.

"Get ahold of yourself, young lady!" Tyler ordered, grabbing my arm and forcibly pulling me towards him. "Violence will get you nowhere."

"It's the only thing that's gotten me anywhere my whole life," I said, frowning as I tried to throw his hand off my arm, but he held it fast.

"It's the only thing you've known, of course you would think that," he said.

I turned and glared at Mikhaila. "If you want to live through the night, I better see that picture back in my room in the next five minutes," I hissed.

"Enough of that," Tyler snapped, dragging me out of Mikhaila's room and into my room. He sat me down on the bed and said, "Let me ask again, what makes you think she took your picture?"

"I already said! She's wanted to get revenge on me ever since I gave her that black eye and got her grounded, which she DID deserve."

"She did deserve the grounding, yes, but I don't think you beating her up is going to get your picture back. Besides, even if you don't find the picture, as long as you have the original negative or disc it was on, you can print another one."

"That's just it. I don't." I fidgeted, rubbing my upper arm where he had grabbed me earlier; it was sore now. "The only reason I'm freaking out over it is…is because that's the last picture I have of Michiko. It's the most recent one I have of her before she got killed. If it was any other picture, I wouldn't be throwing a fit over it like I am this one."

"Ohhh, I see." He put a hand on my shoulder, and I pulled away in response.

"Don't grab me like that again…please," I said quietly. "That's how my dad grabbed me a lot before he'd beat the shit out of me." That was very much a lie, but Tyler didn't know that. After all, how could I tell him that it was Boomers that had been beating me up and not some fictional father figure?

"I'm sorry about that. Just a paternal response, you know, to seeing you trying to pummel my daughter." He paused. "If Mikhaila did take your picture, I'm sure me and Irodia can get her to return it."

"And if she doesn't?" I asked, dread creeping into my voice.

"If she doesn't…we'll beat it out of her ourselves," he joked. "No, we wouldn't do that. If she doesn't return it, then we'll just see what we're gonna do from there."

"I really need that picture back, Tyler…"

"I know. But pictures shouldn't matter, as long as you have them in your memories."

_Says you,_ I thought. _Memories fade, but pictures don't as long as you take care of 'em._

"Try not to worry about it too much, ok?" Tyler asked, standing up. "And try not to kill Mikhaila in the interim."

"I can TRY," I groaned. "Can't guarantee she won't get roughed up though."

"Well, do guarantee it."

After he left, I sighed, closed and locked my door, then flopped face-down on my bed. Vicky had been right all along about Mikhaila trying to find something subtle to exploit about me. I knew to expect something, and in hindsight, I knew I should've known that Mikhaila would target something relating to Michiko. But…I guess I had just been hoping.

_Damn her,_ I growled in my head as I slowly got up and changed into my nightshirt and boxer shorts; I was too upset to try doing my homework now. _Should've known, should've known, should have fucking KNOWN!_

I swore then and there I was going to find that picture soon…but right now, I had to sleep on it. Perhaps in my sleep, I'd be able to think of something.

-----

"Mikhaila did what?" Xania exclaimed the next day when I told her what Mikhaila had done. "She took that picture? Cheap shot on her part."

"Vicky warned me she'd try something like this. I guess I just didn't take it to heart," I mumbled.

"I'm guessing she's denying all charges?"

"Yeah. But I know Irodia or Tyler wouldn't take it! They have no reason to! Only Mikhaila would dare touch it."

"Did you tear apart her room looking for it?" she asked as we walked down the hallway towards our literature class.

"Tyler dragged me out before I had the chance. I'd be in there looking for it right now if Irodia didn't make me come to school. And since Mikhaila's grounded for the rest of the week, I won't be able to have a chance to go in there and look," I said.

"You've lived with 'er for two months, I kinda figured you'd know that bursting into her room to look for it would piss her off," Xania remarked, pointing to my black eye. "Heh, you two kinda look like sisters, now that you BOTH have your left eye blackened."

"Thanks for the compliment," I said dryly, walking into the classroom. I dropped my backpack to the floor, then flopped down in my chair. "You've known her for longer than I have, Xania. Where do you think she'd hide it?"

"You really want that pic back, huh?" she asked, looking a little surprised. "But considering it's the last pic you have of your dead friend, I'd be throwing a hissy-fit if I was in your shoes, too." She thought for a moment, stroking her chin. "I know her locker combo. We could look in her locker during lunch."

"How do you know her locker combo?" I asked.

"When you're hanging out with somebody at their lockers, eventually you get to see what numbers they go to to open their locker." She smirked. "How else would I know it?"

"You don't look like the hacker type, so I guess that would be the only way," I quipped. "I never bothered to look."

"All right, everyone! Enough chitchat, it's time to start!" Mrs. Hoover called out as she walked in. Xania and I went silent as she sat down at her desk, the other students following suit.

-----

The next few classes went by slowly as I thought about Xania's little scheme to break into Mikhaila's locker to help me find Michiko's picture. It was a great plan, but…somehow, it just seemed too obvious. But sometimes, I suppose those are the best places to look. After all, if it was an obvious spot, who would bother to look there? Well, Xania did. But it still seemed like too convenient of a spot to hide it at. Nonetheless, when lunch break arrived, instead of heading to Larry's for some burgers, Xania and I hung out in the hall for a few minutes for the initial crush of kids to pass, then headed straight for Mikhaila's locker.

"You sure she won't catch us?" I asked.

"I'm sure," she assured me as she worked the combination. "She's probably tucked herself away in the library."

I shrugged. "That sounds like what Juliana would do."

"We should be doin' that too, but we're not them," she quipped. At that moment, the lock clicked. "Got it!"

Xania opened the locker, and we both dug through the books that were stuffed inside, but just like I had thought, there were only the typical school things in there, no picture. "Damn it," I cursed, banging my fist against an adjacent locker. "I KNEW it seemed too convenient."

Xania arranged the books in the order she'd found them, then closed the locker and frowned. "So much for that idea," she groaned.

"Is there anybody else that might've been in on this?" I inquired.

"No way," she said, shaking her head. "People avoid Mikhaila like the plague, 'cept for our little group." I groaned and leaned against the lockers.

"I'm gonna kill her, I swear," I vowed through gritted teeth.

"But then the secret of where the pic is will die with her," Xania quipped.

"Since when did you become the voice of reason?"

"I dunno, about five minutes ago," she said cheekily. "There's another option, you know."

"Like what?"

"You said you'd never be able to get into Mikhaila's room, right? So just have Irodia go in there and search herself. Mikhaila can't say no to her mom."

"I guess that might work. But what if it's not in there?"

"Then I dunno what to say, Rosho."

-----

The next morning, I did what Xania suggested and asked Irodia to search Mikhaila's room while we were at school. She wasn't too thrilled about it – she felt like it might look like she didn't trust her daughter at all – but she figured it was worth the risk. "And if you leave it the way it was when you went in there, she won't know the difference," I said.

"Maybe so, but you wouldn't like your mom going through your things to find something that might not be there, right?" she asked, her hands on her hips.

"Well, MY mom knows I'm not a thief," I countered. "So she wouldn't have reason to."

"Yumeko, you don't even have any proof that she stole it."

"There's nobody else that lives here who would! Unless you or Tyler took it!"

"That's a ridiculous suggestion."

"Exactly, which is why Mikhaila's the prime suspect."

She rolled her eyes. "You can be so manipulative at times, you know that?"

I managed a smirk. "I get it from my mom."

All day at school, I wondered whether or not Irodia managed to find that picture. I prayed that she did, and then I wouldn't have to worry any more, but at the same time, the question of what I'd do if she DIDN'T find the picture loomed in my head.

"For crying out loud, stop worrying about it," Karen said. "It's just a picture."

"You don't get it!" I snapped, clutching my half-eaten burger in my hands. "That's the last pic I have of her before she died!"

"You have other pics of her, right?"

"Yes, I do, but I want to treasure every last memory I have of her! So every picture I have of Michiko is important to me! If you'd lost someone close to you, you'd know that!" I grabbed the necklace that was around my neck. "She was wearing this when she died, so maybe in a way, it's even more precious to me than that picture! But in another way, the picture is even more important, because it's the only picture I have of her wearing it!"

"You're gonna give yourself a heart attack, Rocío," Vicky said, grimacing. "Worrying isn't gonna make the picture suddenly reappear."

"Maybe not, but it's the only thing I can do right now."

Xania just sighed and picked at her French fries.

After school, Xania and I ran to my bike as fast as we could and started it up; I couldn't wait to find out if Irodia had found it or not. Xania started to look a bit worried about how much I was worrying over what she was starting to think was a 'simple' picture. "Rosho, you sure you're not stressing out too much over this?" she asked as we roared down the street.

"I'm very sure."

"It's not like you getting home sooner is gonna make a difference."

"It will to me." I frowned. "Wouldn't you be acting the same way if someone took the last picture you have of your parents?"

Xania didn't answer, not in words anyway. The next thing I knew, I felt her fist slamming into my back, knocking the air out of me. I coughed and sputtered and was forced to pull over to the side of the road, Xania still pounding on my back.

I jumped off the bike and wheezed, "What the hell's that for?"

"Don't you bring up my parents!" she yelled. "I told you not to bring them up!"

"It was…just a remark," I protested, lifting up my visor as I winced at my now-throbbing back.

Xania jumped off the bike and got in my face, incensed. "I don't fuckin' care! I don't want anyone bringin' up my parents! And no, I DON'T have any pictures of 'em, and I'm glad, 'cause I never wanna see their fuckin' faces ever again!"

"What is it they did that makes you not wanna see them again?" I asked. She just shook her head and wagged her finger at me.

"Hey now, we agreed that if you asked about them, I get to ask you somethin' about YOUR past too, remember?" she reminded me, frowning.

I sighed and backed off. "Fine, I won't mention 'em again. Just don't go pounding on my back again! You almost made me wreck the bike."

"Sorry." She meekly scratched the side of her head and looked down. "I just get pissed whenever people bring 'em up."

"I know they were druggies, but that's about it."

"And that's all you need to know," she said quickly as she climbed back onto my bike. "So c'mon, let's go see if Irodia found that pic of yours."

"But it's 'just a pic,'" I quipped, echoing her words earlier.

"Well, apparently it's not just a pic to you, so I'm sorry I said that. Worry all you want about it."

"Apology accepted." I climbed back on and started it up again. "Though if you left any bruises, you owe me a back rub."

"Ok, fine," she said, chuckling.

A few minutes later, we arrived back at Irodia's house, and fortunately Mikhaila wasn't back yet, which made me breathe a sigh of relief. I climbed off the bike and jogged up the steps and inside, Xania close behind.

"Irodia?" I called out. A moment later, she emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands dry with a towel. "Did you find it?"

She shook her head and said calmly, "I'm sorry, I didn't find it, Rocío. I searched her room top to bottom, but I couldn't find it."

I slapped both hands over my face. "Shit!"

"Damn, tough break," Xania said.

"You sure there's not some secret storage area in her closet?" I asked dryly.

"Yes, I checked three times," Irodia replied. "I didn't find anything in there other than her usual stock of clothes and magazines."

"Maybe she threw away the frame and hid the picture between the pages!" Irodia shook her head again.

"I already thought of that, and flipped through all her books and magazines, but again, I didn't see it."

I groaned and flopped down on the couch. _It's gotta be somewhere,_ I screamed in my head. "But it MUST be somewhere in this damn house!" I protested. "Maybe it's in the garage for all we know!"

"Rocío…you really want this picture back, don't you…" Irodia said, her eyes softening.

"Yes! Michiko was my best friend!" I felt like I was going to go crazy. Why didn't anybody seem like they could understand why I was freaking out over the loss of that picture! I stood up and stormed to my room, throwing myself on the bed. "Damn that bitch Mikhaila!" I yelled, punching the pillow. "I hate her!"

"Don't we all," Xania quipped, walking into the room and shutting the door. "Here's something about my past I'm willing to admit." She sat down next to me. "When I first made friends with her, it was because we had somethin' in common. We both loved to just cause trouble."

"When was this?" I asked, looking up.

"Three years ago. I was fifteen."

"So what happened?"

"After a while, it just wasn't fun anymore," she said, shrugging. "I mean, there's only so much pain you can put up with seeing before it finally gets to ya. Me, I do have a conscience somewhere in me. But Mikhaila, I haven't seen anything like that from her yet. She's almost sadistic at times. It's kinda like she has a voodoo doll that she just keeps poking and poking."

"So why do you still hang around with her?"

"Because both my foster mom AND Irodia insist on it. They say that since I've learned to 'mend' my ways, maybe my 'good example' will rub off on her."

"Haven't seen it rub off yet," I mumbled.

She smirked. "Well, of course, my ideas of 'fun' are different from Mikhaila's. My idea of fun is how long I can make the moves on a guy before he caves and besides to sleep with me."

"And how many HAVE slept with you?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Xania thought for a moment and said, "Twenty-two."

"Twenty-two?"

"Yup. Haven't had a guy that's refused." She grinned proudly.

"Knowing you, I thought your number would've been higher."

"Nah. I have my standards too. If the guy's gotten a girl pregnant, or has some disease, I won't go after 'im."

"Well, THAT'S nice to know," I said dryly.

"Oh, Rosho, this guy I know is gonna be throwing a party at his house this weekend. Maybe it'll help you get out of this funk you're in about the picture," she suggested.

"I dunno. I'm not much of a partygoer, and I'm not too anxious to go to another one after what happened at the last one," I groaned.

"Don't worry, it's not a pool party. It's just your normal house party."

"Sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll?" I quipped.

Xania laughed. "Well, if you want any of that, it'll be readily available!" She cleared her throat. "Well, um, anyway, if you wanna come, you can."

"You sure it's ok?"

"Yeah! He said we can bring as many people as we want! 'The more, the merrier,' he said."

"So far, I'm not convinced."

"C'mon Rosho, you need to get out and enjoy yourself! Can't just mope around all day, or you're gonna drag everyone down with ya."

I sighed. "As long as I don't walk into a room and find you having sex with some guy you just met twenty minutes before."

She grinned. "Deal."

-----

Even though I was reluctant, I agreed to go to the party, but I almost wasn't able to go anyway. The night of the party, Irodia made it a point to make sure I had all my homework done. "A party isn't an excuse to ignore your studies," she said, almost sounding like that preacher at church. "You can go once you get your homework done."

"I can do it tomorrow after church," I tried to persuade her. She just folded her arms over her bosom and shook her head.

"If you can get it done now, then why put it off? Best to have it done early and get it over with, right?"

"Some people work better under stress—" I started to say.

Irodia smirked. "That game is not going to work on me, Rocío. Now get cracking."

I sighed and sat down at the desk. "Fine…"

For the next two and a half hours, I sat there at the desk, working on my math assignment, followed by doing a history essay on the most influential pharaohs of Egypt. Just the thought of a history essay made me shudder; I had been working on one the night of the summit attack. _C'mon, that was then. That was an essay about the atom bomb and Hiroshima and Nagasaki. This is an essay about pharaohs. Complete opposites,_ I thought. I sucked it up and managed to bullshit my way through the essay, and by the time I was done typing up the obligatory 'works cited' page, it was time for Xania to be coming by to pick me up.

And as I was printing out the essay, I heard the sound of the doorbell ringing. _Just in time,_ I thought, stapling the pages together and putting them in my folder. I stood up, slipped on my jacket, and walked to the door, opening it up.

"Hey there!" Xania said, adjusting her shades. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah. You got great timing," I said in a low voice. "I just got done with that damn history essay."

"You did homework before heading out to a party?"

"Well, Irodia wouldn't let me go unless I did it."

"A blackmailer, she is," Xania agreed, rolling her eyes.

"Be careful, you two," Irodia called out to us as we headed down the walkway.

"We will!" I called back.

"Try not to hit on too many boys!" Tyler joked before shutting the door. I slapped my hand over my eyes in response.

"Was that directed at you, or me? I couldn't tell," Xania joked, opening the door to her car. I climbed in on the other side and buckled my seat belt.

"Isn't this your mom's car?" I asked as she started it up.

"Yeah. She's letting me borrow it for tonight."

I smirked. "Ok, what did you have to swear to her? I don't buy it that she'd just let you take it without making you swear on a Bible about SOME weird thing."

Xania returned the smirk as we headed down the street, then turned left onto the next street. "Well…" she started to say, then cleared her throat. "She made me swear to bring the car back in one piece, of course, but she also made me swear that I wouldn't touch any liquor or weed, if those're available."

"Sounds like what the typical mom would make you swear to."

"Yeah," she said, suddenly getting a goofy grin. "But she also made me swear not to go on another sexathon like I did at the New Year's party last year."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Well, considering it's YOU, I guess you WOULD have to be sworn not to do that. How many did you bed at the New Year's party, anyway?"

"Heh…three. Most I've ever bagged in one night."

"Bet you're proud," I said sarcastically.

"Yeah, but I guess I'll have to wait for another day to break that mark," she said cheekily.

"Hey, you promised me I wouldn't walk in on you going at it with some guy anyway," I protested.

"Yes, I did promise that. But that just means I can't do it in a public place like the living room couch. It just means I'd have to lock me and some guy in the bathroom to do it."

I groaned. "I'll say it again. You're pathetic."

"Why, thank you," she laughed, bowing her head in response.

I just sighed and leaned my head against the car window. How could someone be so crazed over something that could be as potentially meaningless as sex? I just didn't understand it. Why share such an intimate moment with somebody if you're not going to be with them for the rest of your life? It almost made me wonder if Xania still had some self-esteem issues to work out from her past. _I guess I shouldn't ask,_ I thought, _lest I get a few more punches to the back again…_

_-----_

It wasn't too hard to figure out which house the party was being held at; the one with all the lights on and a horde of cars parked in front of it seemed to give itself away as the one. Once Xania managed to find a parking place, she and I got out of the car and headed up the driveway, then after knocking on the door, the boy hosting the party answered.

"Hi there, Xania!" he said, grinning at her. "Brought a friend, huh?"

"Yeah. This is Rosho," Xania said, gesturing to me.

"Hi, Rosho," he greeted.

"Only Xania calls me Rosho. To you, I'm just Rocío," I said flatly. _Damn, what I would do to hear somebody call me Yumeko again,_ I thought.

"Well, to you, I'm Rob, the party animal from hell," he replied, grinning mischievously.

"So should I shorten that to Rob, Animal, or Hell?" I quipped. Rob just laughed.

"C'mon in, ladies. This party's not gonna enjoy itself, ya know." He ushered us inside, then led us through the living room and the kitchen to the back yard. "Here's where it's all happenin'," he said. "Got food, booze, anything you could ever want at a party."

"Thanks, Rob," Xania said. "Go on, Rosho, jump right in. The water's fine."

"I wish you wouldn't say that," I groaned.

"It's a figure of speech."

"I know, but I'm not in the joking mood."

Xania shoved me towards the table of food. "Here, eat somethin'. You'll feel better."

"Where're you going?" I asked when she started to walk away.

"Oh, I'm just gonna go scope the cute guys," she said, flashing me the peace sign. "If ya need me, I'll probably be inside."

"…Fine," I said, turning back to the food as she went inside. I stood there and looked at the different kinds of food there were on the table, and after a moment, decided on some chips and hot wings. Once I grabbed those and a cup of punch, I went and sat down on the grass, watching the other kids have fun. For a moment, the loud music coming from the house stopped, but a moment later, the rock music was replaced by rap. I grimaced and took a bite into one of my hot wings.

_I shouldn't have come,_ I thought. _'You'll have fun,' she says. Yeah right._ What fun was it if your own friend ran off on her own to go pick up some guys, the music was bad, and the food was only lukewarm? I grimaced again, this time at the taste of the hot wings, then took a sip of the punch, only to nearly spit it out on the lawn. It tasted…sour! _Great, the punch is spiked too,_ I thought, then after a moment, shrugged and took another sip. As bad as the punch tasted, at least it was washing away the taste of those awful hot wings. And it wasn't like things could get any worse, not after having my picture of Michiko suddenly disappearing off my desk and being away from my home and family and friends.

After my punch was finished off, I stood up and refilled the cup, then downed that one too, alone with that and my own thoughts as I pulled one blade of grass up from the ground at a time. _Hate this,_ I thought as I pulled up blade after blade. _If I were the host, this'd be the best damndest party anyone'd ever seen. And Mom, she throws the best parties. If she threw it, it'd be even better._ Before I knew it, my second glass of punch was gone, and as I stood up to refill the cup again, I swayed for a moment. I had to grab the trunk of a nearby tree with both hands to keep from falling.

I managed to make my way to the table again – which by now was nearly devoid of food – then refilled my cup with the last of the punch. This time, I just stood there, leaning against the table while I sipped at the punch, looking around again. The other kids were laughing, hitting each other playfully…in other words, just acting like kids. _Ah, fuck 'em,_ I thought. _I'm fine just right here. I don't need 'em. Don't need anybody._

"Hey, Rocío," I heard Rob say. I turned to my right and saw him standing there, grinning. "Got into the punch, huh?"

"Yeah," I said lazily, nodding. "Tastes like shit, just like everything else."

"Well, if you'd gotten here earlier, it wouldn't be ice cold," he said, winking. "You look wasted."

"So what if I'm wasted?" I slurred, tossing my half-filled cup aside. "Does it matter to ya if I'm wasted?"

"Not if you don't." He put his hands on my shoulders and started rubbing them. "Ya know, if you can't get home, you could always stay here."

"Mmmmmaybe," I said, breaking out in laughter. "I could even sleep in ya bed!"

He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "Yes, you could." He pulled back and said, "These crowds are getting to me. How 'bout we go upstairs and just…hang out?" I nodded eagerly and laughed again. "Ok, that looks like a yes to me."

He put his hands on my shoulders to steady me, then slowly led me into the house, past another crowd of partygoers, then up the stairs and down the hallway. Rob then opened a door near the end of the hallway and led me inside to his dimly-lit bedroom. He sat me down on the bed, then closed the door and locked it.

"There," Rob said, turning back to me. "Now nobody can barge in on us."

"Well, that's why they put locks on doors," I laughed.

He smirked. "Damn, you're just a laughing maniac tonight, arentcha!"

"Well, you're funny!"

"I'm funny, huh?" He leaned in towards me and brushed my bangs out of my eyes. "Y'know, you're the first girl I've seen with red eyes. Nice change from the blond-haired blue-eyed dimwits I see in this town all the time."

"I get 'em from my mom," I said. "People think I put in contact lenses to have 'em look like this, but they're au naturel."

"I like au naturel," he agreed. "People around here think it's cool to have a bunch of cybernetic shit attached to themselves, but it's just gross."

"Couldn't get 'em back home unless they were medically necessary," I droned. "Almost got one myself when I got shot in the leg."

"Really?"

"Yeah." I bent down, unbuttoned my jeans, then slipped them off and put my hand on the scar on my leg. "See? Took me four months to learn to walk again." I held up three fingers, then counted them and put up another one. "Four. Yup."

Rob leaned in towards me again, running his hand up and down my bare leg. "That's a tough break, Rocío. But you can forget about that when you're with me."

"I can?"

"Yeah. Just let me help you forget…"

He cupped his face in my hands, leaned forward, then gave me a gentle kiss on the lips. I started to pull away, but instead let myself take it in fully. Rob deepened the kiss, then slowly pushed me back until I was laying down on his bed. He crawled on top of me, then kissed me again, running his fingers up and down the insides of my thighs. I shuddered as I felt a wave of pleasure make its way up my body, then closed my eyes and let my body relax as he put his hands up my shirt and moved his fingers under my bra.

"I've never done this before," I moaned as he pulled off my shirt.

"Really?" he asked. "So I'm the first guy you've made out with, huh? I feel so honored." He grinned, reached behind me, and unhooked my bra, then pulled it away and tossed it to the floor along with my shirt. He kissed me again, then moved his lips to my neck, then down to my collarbone and down to my bare breasts. I let out a sigh, closed my eyes, and leaned back as he ran his hands over them, followed by his lips and tongue. When I felt him pinch my nipples, I let out a gasp, then relaxed, and moaned when Rob started sucking on them. What he was doing felt great; I didn't want this moment to end. In my mind, I pleaded for him to keep going, to do whatever he wanted with me.

"Does it feel good?" he asked, sitting up as he pulled off his own shirt. I nodded, then watched him eagerly as he ran his eyes over my half-naked body. "You're even prettier with no clothes on than you are with clothes."

"I work out," I laughed.

"I can tell," he replied, grinning as he bent down and kissed me again. I heard the rustling of clothes as he pulled off his jeans, and when he had himself on top of me again, we were both only wearing our underwear, though I was almost eager for him to pull those off of me, too. As he gave me a deep kiss, I felt him run his hand over one of my breasts, then down to my panties. My heart pounded as he worked his fingers underneath the fabric, and when I felt him touch my most private area, I gasped in pleasure.

"You like that?" he whispered as he started to move his fingers in a way that had me moaning.

"Y…yes…" I managed to say as he nibbled on my neck and continued moving his hand under my panties. I closed my eyes and moaned again as wave after wave of pleasure moved up my body, until I couldn't stand it anymore. I started to pull them down, but Rob stopped me.

"Shh, in time," he said with that mischievous grin. He nibbled on my breasts and moved his hand faster, making me moan louder. His other hand caressed the side of my breast, and he slowly moved it down until his fingers rested on my stomach scars, then traced his fingertips over each one. When he did that, images started flashing through my head, images of Boh. I could see him grinning as he gleefully shoved his knife into my gut again and again, getting a sick pleasure out of seeing me writhe in agony, and I could feel his kiss on my lips again, the kiss he gave me after he'd decided I had had enough.

"No…stop…" I moaned, all the pleasure gone from my body.

"Stop? You wanted me to keep going," I heard Rob's voice say, but above me, all I could see was Boh.

"No! No! NO!" I screamed. "STOP IT!"

Whatever happened after that, I couldn't remember, but the next thing I knew, I was standing up, breathing heavily, my fist clenched. I looked at Rob's bed, but he wasn't there. I blinked for a moment, wondering where he was, then I looked down at the floor. On the floor was Rob, beaten and bruised, with a swollen and bloody face and his nose crooked, obviously broken.

"Oh shit…I blacked out again," I said aloud. I bent down and quickly gathered my clothes, and threw them on. After I pulled on my shoes, I was just about to unlock the door when Rob sat up, groggy.

"W…what the hell was that for?" he demanded. "You wanted it!"

"You bastard," I spat. "Don't you try that again. You got me that time, but it won't happen again."

As I unlocked the door and walked out, Rob just sat there, looking dumbfounded, as if he couldn't understand what I was saying. But of course he couldn't; I'd been talking in my native Japanese, not English.

_What happened back there?_ I thought to myself as I carefully made my way downstairs and outside to the back yard. _Was I really laying there letting that guy seduce me?_ Those flashbacks of the night Boh stabbed me certainly had worked to sober me up quickly. I shuddered and rubbed my arms; I suddenly felt cold at the memories of that night. I looked around for my monkey-tailed friend, but she was nowhere to be seen. I headed back inside and asked some of the other kids if they'd seen her, but nobody had.

"Oh, the girl with the tail?" one girl with pink-streaked hair asked. "Yeah, I saw 'er. She went out to the front yard."

"Thanks," I said quickly, jogging past her and out the front door. Again, I looked around, but there was hardly anybody out in this part of the house. I sighed and looked down the driveway, and sighed again, this time in relief, when I saw that her car was still there; at least she hadn't abandoned me. _Now where the hell could she have gone?_ I wondered when I happened to look up. Up on the roof by herself was Xania, leaning back and looking at the sky. I smiled, then walked to a nearby tree and climbed up to join her.

"Hi there," I said, stumbling over to her and plopping myself down next to her.

"Huh? Oh, hi Rosho." She sat up and flicked her tail. "Holy shit, you're wasted! Just look at yourself!"

"Don't remind me," I groaned, rubbing my face with my hands. "That…that what's-his-name guy that's hosting the party had me in his bed earlier."

"Really?" she exclaimed. "Did you fuck him?"

"No, I left, after beating his face in."

"Why'd you do that?"

"'Cause I had a flashback about the night Bo…I mean, my dad stabbed me, and I flipped." I laid my head down in her lap. "I was half-naked and didn't even resist what he was doin'…"

Xania stroked my hair and smiled wistfully. "Yeah, sometimes it just feels so good, you wish it could last forever."

I shuddered at the memory of his hands all over my body. Sure, at the time it felt good, but now I felt so…violated. Nobody had ever touched me like that before. "I'm gonna make sure…not to let him or anybody do that again," I swore, closing my eyes.

"I know a way to avoid that. Just avoid getting DRUNK!" Xania laughed. "You dunno how to handle bein' drunk, do ya!" I shook my head.

"Never been drunk before…I feel giddy."

"Ya just need to learn to gauge what your drinking limit is. First-timers get drunk easily 'cause they dunno their limit. But trust me, after a while, you learn."

"I'd tried beer before, but it tasted gross, so I didn't touch it again." I yawned. "Not like it tasted any better mixed in wizzat punch though…"

"Girl, you need to get to bed. You're about to nod off in my lap here," Xania chuckled, sitting me up. "Let's get outta here before anybody notices you beat the shit out of Rob," she added, barely containing a snicker.

After helping me climb down from the roof, Xania led me to the car and got me into the passenger-side seat. I managed to buckle the seat belt myself while she got in on her side and started up the car, buckling up her belt as well. "Well, I must say," she said as we started to drive down the street, "this was sure an interesting night. I didn't find anybody interesting for once, and you, you almost got your first lay!"

"Hooray," I yawned dryly, leaning my head against the window. Xania just laughed.

As tired as I was, I opened my eyes and managed to say one last thing. "Oh, that kid…his name ain't Rob."

"Oh?"

"Uh-uh. His name's Hell."

Xania started cracking up. "After what happened, seems appropriate enough." She started drumming on the steering wheel. "Suddenly, I got that song stuck in my head. _We're on the hiiighwaaay to hell! Bum-bum BUM bum! Hiiiighwaaaay to hell! Bum-bum BUM bum!_"

I just smiled weakly and closed my eyes again, hoping that the next morning, I'd be able to put this whole embarrassing episode behind me. And that hopefully by the time I got to school on Monday, I'd be able to save myself some face, and whatever shred of dignity I could find.

But right now…I just wanted some sleep. It wasn't much of an escape, but at least it'd get me away from this place for a while.


	3. The Black Spider

All night long, I felt like I was in limbo, just floating in the middle of nowhere in a strange haze. But in the distance, I could hear the faint sound of waves. I tried to open my eyes, but they refused to obey. After turning my head, the sound of the waves got louder and louder, until the sound was practically in my head. And then, I realized it WAS in my head. In fact, it wasn't waves at all. It was the sound of my pulse throbbing in my head.

I inwardly winced at the emerging pain and slowly pulled the bedsheets over my head, trying to block out the morning light that was attempting to beckon me awake. _No way is it morning already, no waaaay,_ I groaned in my head. My entire body felt like dead weight; even if I wanted to move, my body certainly didn't feel that way, and so stayed still.

_That does it, I'm getting up,_ I thought, whether my body was in the mood to or not. But the moment I rubbed the crusty stuff out of my eyes that had gathered during the night and lifted my head off the pillow, the dull ache in my head started to spread throughout, and turned into a hard pounding, like I was getting hit over the head by a brick or baseball bat or something. I groaned and dropped back down to the bed, trying to put my hands to my head, but they merely fell limply against it. _Damn, what did I do last night?_ I wondered.

Unfortunately, the person who happened to walk in the door at that moment wasn't the one I wanted to ask my question to. "Xania, you really need to stop leaving your dirty clothes all over the floor," I heard her mom grumble. "You have a hamper, why don't you use it?" When she didn't get a reply, I heard her walk over to my side and felt her hand start shaking my shoulder. "Did you party too hard last night or what? We have church today, you know."

I pulled the sheets off of my head and slowly opened my eyes, looking up at her. "Sorry, I ain't the one you wanna be talkin' to," I said hoarsely.

Xania's mom yelped in surprise and leaped about a mile in the air. "Rocío! What are you doing?"

"I dunno, I just woke up here. Don't yell, 'k? My head hurts." I put a hand to my head again, which was pounding anew.

"What, did she get so desperate as to resort to girls?" she asked sarcastically.

"I don't sleep with girls!" I heard Xania protest from the entrance to her room. Her mom turned around and faced her.

"Oh, there you are," she said in a huff. "Get ready for church. And get your friend something for her hangover." She pushed Xania aside and strided out of the room.

"Hangover?" I repeated. "Did I get drunk?"

"Boy howdy, did you ever," Xania replied, walking over to me. "But don't worry, at least you were a coherent drunk." She chuckled.

"I don't remember anything," I groaned, burying my face in the pillow; the room seemed so bright all of a sudden, and that light really hurt my head. "Did I do anything stupid?"

"Well, you nearly slept with Rob, but other than that, no."

"What…?" I managed to lift my head up. "Rob? Whozzat?"

"The kid whose party we went to," she said, raising an eyebrow. "But you told me you didn't sleep with 'im because you started getting flashbacks about when your dad stabbed you, and you beat the living shit out of him."

"You gotta be messin' with me. I wouldn't hop into bed with no guy, uh-uh."

"Well, you WERE drunk. Probably why he chose you as a nice choice for a lay."

"I didn't sleep with him, I didn't," I moaned.

"You didn't, I already said that. You told me you ALMOST did. Don't worry, your precious virginity is still intact," Xania said cheekily. She turned around to open a dresser drawer, then dug around in it for something. After a moment, she grabbed a bottle and handed it to me. "Take two of those to make your head not feel like somebody used it as a soccer ball."

"Thanks," I said, taking the bottle in my hand.

"Take 'em now, trust me."

"Then I'd hafta sit up…"

"I know," she said flatly. "But it's better than laying in bed all day with your head poundin'. Just take two of 'em, then lay back down if you need to."

I grudgingly sat up, holding my head with my free hand, then managed to open the bottle and dump two pills into my hand. As I sat there just staring at them, the pounding in my head making it hard for any thoughts to get through, Xania left to get me a glass of water. Once she came back with it, I took it from her, then took a deep breath, popped the pills in my mouth, took a gulp of the water, then choked them down.

"Ow," I groaned, setting the glass on the nightstand as I slowly laid back down on the bed.

"It should feel better in about half an hour," Xania said, stripping her pajamas. Normally I would've turned away, but with as much as my head was bugging me at this point, I didn't really care.

"You seem like you have experience with this," I pointed out as she stepped into a fresh pair of panties, then pulled on some pantyhose and a bra.

"Like hell I do," she concurred, walking to the closet to pick out a church dress. "If you figure you're gonna be hurtin' in the morning, may as well be prepared, right?"

"Right," I said as she pulled on the dress, zipping up the back. "How'd you get me up here, anyway?"

"You passed out in the car on the way back," Xania said, applying mousse to her hair as she brushed it back. "But when we got back here, I woke you up and managed to drag you upstairs and put you to bed."

"Where'd you sleep?"

"Downstairs on the couch. Don't worry 'bout hoggin' my bed, I just didn't want to get the ugly side of it in case you woke up today and decided you needed to throw up," she joked. "You hungry?"

"Not really."

"Well, too bad. I'm gonna go downstairs and make ya some bacon and eggs. A good meal's one of the best things for a hangover."

I just laid there and looked at Xania funny for a second. She was almost talking like a mother, the way she was saying that food would help with my hangover, and to be prepared in case you do get one, and so on. It seemed unlike her, but at the same time, considering her lifestyle, I suppose it shouldn't have come as much of a surprise.

"And drink that water too," she said, bursting into my thoughts. "It'll help too."

"Ok, mother," I quipped, smirking. She returned the smirk.

"Don't you call me that. I ain't no mom, I'm just someone who's been there enough times to know how to deal with it. It's common sense."

"Isn't it also common sense to not drink to begin with?" I countered, chuckling.

"Hey, I'm not the one laying in bed with a splitting headache here," she laughed, pulling on her dress shoes. "I'm gonna go get breakfast ready, so just…lay there and suffer till it's ready."

"Will do," I replied wryly as she left and headed downstairs. After she left, I sat up slowly and reached for my glass of water, taking slow sips from it. Having seen Mom deal with more than one hangover in her life, I would've thought that I'd know how to deal with it myself, but apparently I hadn't been paying too much attention. If I had, I wouldn't have been laying here being waited on hand and foot by Xania. _She cares too much,_ I thought as I sipped my water, which really helped get rid of that sweaty-sock taste I had in my mouth. _Oh well, I'll have to remember all of this the next time I go out drinking._

At that thought, I had to frown to myself. What was I thinking when I decided to drink that punch, even though I knew it was spiked? _Not like it matters now. I did something totally stupid and now I can't take it back,_ I thought. What did Xania say his name was? Rob? I thought and tried to recall his face, but I couldn't. I was sure I'd be able to recognize him if I saw him in person, though. He'd nearly seduced me, at the least I should've been able to pick out his face!

"Here ya go!" Xania called out as she reentered the room with a plate of bacon and eggs in one hand, and a glass of orange juice in the other. She set them down on the nightstand and said, "I'd really rather stay here and watch you writhe in pain, but Mom's demanding I go and listen to the priest do his weekly blabbering."

"It's ok, you should go. Don't want to hear your mom do any more of her religious spouting than I have to," I said dryly.

"I'll tell Irodia that you got sick at the party and you're here resting up, ok? Don't worry about her, she'll probably understand."

"I hope so, though I dunno what she'll think when she finds out I got drunk at the party."

Xania grinned. "I've never known you as one to give a rat's ass about what other people think, so don't start on that now. Y'know how I feel about worrywarts."

"Yeah, people who worry too much—"

"—Just end up getting warts, hence the term 'worrywarts'," she finished, laughing. I shook my head in disbelief; I never could figure out how on earth she came up with that. "And trust me," she added, "nobody looks good in warts."

"I know, I know," I said, grabbing a piece of bacon.

"Hurry up!" Xania's mom yelled from downstairs. "We're going to be late!"

"Ok!" Xania called back down. "I better get goin'. We'll be back in about two hours probably."

"Take your time. I just might be here all day."

"Just rest up. Don't want that damn hangover hanging over into tomorrow," she quipped as she headed out the door. "See ya soon!"

"Ok!"

As Xania and her mom left, I munched slowly on my bacon-and-egg breakfast, trying to will my headache to go away while at the same time regretting going to that party last night. If I'd known I'd be acting like a damn idiot, I wouldn't have gone. And now I had to worry about this Rob guy and what he might say if I ended up running into him at school tomorrow. And then, I had a thought. _Who the hell cares,_ I thought. _He had it coming to him! Who cares if I run into him? If he gives me any shit, I'll just beat him up again like Xania said I did last night!_

_-----_

By the time I finished picking my way through the bacon and eggs Xania cooked up for me, it was cold, and the orange juice was nearly warm. It just hurt my head too much to rush through anything, or even go at a normal speed. I left the dishes on the nightstand and decided to sleep away my headache; I couldn't feel the aspirin Xania gave me taking effect yet.

By the time I woke up, I could hear the front door opening up downstairs. A moment later, I heard Xania jogging up the stairs and to her room. "Still in bed?" she remarked.

"Yeah, I'm just too comfortable to move," I quipped.

"How do your clothes smell?"

"Why?"

"You were plastered last night, so chances are your clothes smell like the stuff you drank." She walked over to me, then bent over and sniffed. "Yep, got that vodka smell ground into those good."

"So what? I'll change out of 'em and wash 'em when I get back to Irodia's place."

Xania just chuckled. "Nah, let's just wash 'em here. Mikhaila'll give you shit about it, and I doubt Irodia would let you live it down either if she found out you got wasted. So just give 'em here."

"And what do I wear in the meantime?" I inquired.

"Unless you wanna walk around naked, you can wear my clothes," she said. She dug through her drawer and tossed a large shirt, shorts, and underwear my way.

"There's a hole in the shorts," I said, holding them up.

"It's for my tail," she said as she took off her church dress and unwrapped her tail from around her hips, flicking it back and forth. "The shirt'll cover it up, don't worry."

I grudgingly made my way out of bed and started to take off my jeans, but started to lose my balance, so I sat back down on the bed and pulled them off instead. "Do you mind?" I said, feeling a little nervous when Xania watched me with a grin on her face. "I need to change."

"So do I!" she said, pulling off her shoes and pantyhose. "Don't mind me, we're both girls."

"Don't stare though," I groaned. Xania just grinned and turned her back to me while we both changed. Once Xania was in some more comfortable clothes, she ran her fingers through her hair and rumpled it up again into her usual hairstyle.

"Ah, much better," she said as she put on her shades, wagging her tail. "How do the clothes fit, Rosho?"

"I need a belt," I said, standing up and modeling them for her. "They feel like they're gonna fall off."

"Here." She dug through a drawer and handed me one, then gathered up my smelly clothes. "I'll go and throw these in the laundry for ya. They'll be done in a couple hours."

I held in a snicker.

"What's so funny?" she inquired.

"I've never seen you act so domestic before. It's cute."

"Cute?"

"Yeah. And besides, your mom was saying something this morning about you leaving your dirty laundry on the floor instead of in the hamper."

Xania snorted and rolled her eyes. "Damn, typical." She bent down and gathered whatever clothes she could carry, then left the room and headed downstairs. I laughed to myself, then grabbed her hairbrush off of her dresser and brushed my hair, trying to make it look semi-decent. Once I was done, I set it down, then decided to take the dirty dishes from breakfast downstairs, but once I picked them up, Xania came running back into the room.

"I'll take those," she said, practically snatching them out of my hands. She turned and hurried back downstairs, then a moment later came back up.

"You don't need to cater to me. I'm not an invalid," I said, wide-eyed.

"No, but the hangover still looks like it has a grip on ya. Take a look in the mirror," she said, turning me around so I could look in the mirror. I grimaced when I saw that my eyes were bloodshot, there were dark circles around them, and my skin looked pasty.

"I look like a zombie," I mumbled, rubbing one side of my face with my hand. Xania took me by the hand and dragged me to the bathroom. She filled the sink with water, then dipped one hand in and splashed my face with some. I yelped.

"That's cold!" I gasped.

"It'll help ya feel better," she assured me. "It'll help ya wake up more too."

I bent down and splashed my face a few times with the ice-cold water, then dried it with a washcloth and looked in the mirror again. "Hey, I look better too," I remarked.

"Told ya," Xania said, smirking. "And if you wanna take a shower, take a cold one. A hot one'll just make your head hurt more."

"Why are you trying to help me so much?" I asked, looking at her. "It's my fault I let myself get drunk."

"You're a friend, and you've never handled being drunk and hung over and all that shit. Just wanted to show ya how to get through it." She grinned. "And besides, you're keeping me from having to deal with the bitch from hell downstairs."

"But once I leave, you'll hafta deal with her."

"Yeah, but better later than sooner," she laughed. "You're just a convenient excuse for me to avoid her."

"Is that all I am?"

She grinned and hugged me, chuckling. "Of course, my sweet hung-over little thing."

I hugged her back and said, snickering, "If my head weren't hurting, I'd be kicking your ass right now."

"I know, that's why I'm saying it now and not later," she joked.

-----

"I don't believe it one bit," Mikhaila remarked over dinner.

"Don't believe what?" I asked, shoving a forkful of au gratin potatoes in my mouth.

"Xania saying you got sick at that party. You just wanted to avoid church, right?"

"That's not it. I just didn't think I'd be able to handle going to church with a stomach flu. I don't think God would appreciate me puking in His holy house," I quipped.

"It's not a sin if you don't go to church every Sunday," Irodia concurred. "Mikhaila, you know you haven't gone every single Sunday either, so don't rub it in Rocío's face when she misses one."

_Thank God Irodia's taking my side on this one,_ I thought to myself. Thanks to Xania's little tips about washing my clothes and me taking a shower before I headed back to Irodia's place – I swore to myself I would NEVER call it home – nobody was able to tell that I had been drunk the night before. My head also felt much better, but I still wasn't very hungry. Fortunately, Irodia and Tyler just attributed that to the 'stomach flu' I had.

"Rocío, if you weren't feeling well last night, you shouldn't have gone to the party," Tyler said, cutting up his pork chop.

"I felt fine beforehand, but I ate some really nasty hot wings there and I just couldn't hold anything down after that," I replied.

"That's the trouble with parties; you never know where that food has been."

_Or the punch,_ I groaned in my head. "Maybe I should just bring my own food next time."

"Or eat before you go," Irodia cut in.

"So, did you meet any cute guys there?" Mikhaila teased.

My eyebrow twitched at the thought. "The one guy who hit on me was a total ass. So no, I didn't." I put down my fork. "He was a lot like that guy that shoved me in the pool last weekend."

She just snickered. "Yeah, I bet."

"I'm not gonna let you off easy for that, you know," I snapped. "And especially not for taking that picture of Michiko and me. I know you took it."

"You have no proof. What're you gonna do, dust that desk for fingerprints?" she spat.

"Maybe I can't prove you did it, but I don't know anyone else who would. So that leaves you as the only suspect."

Tyler sighed. "Rocío, let's not play the blame game here. Perhaps you should just forgive her and move on."

"Move on?" I protested, as if that was a ridiculous suggestion, which it was. "That picture's the last one I have of her! It's hard enough trying to admit to myself she's even dead!"

"'And Jesus said, 'I answer you, not seven times, but seventy times seven,''" Tyler quoted from the Bible. "Jesus would want you to forgive her, and so do I. So tell Mikhaila you forgive her for taking it, if in fact she did."

"Not until she gives it back! And until she does, I'm not gonna forgive her, ever! Not once, or seventy-times-seven times like Jesus said to what's-his-name! I want that picture back, and I'm gonna give her hell until she does!" I yelled defiantly, standing up.

"What's wrong, Rocío? Is the hair that got stuck up your ass starting to fester?" Mikhaila asked dryly, repeating verbatim the very thing I had asked her a few months earlier.

"You're dead!" I yelled, starting to jump at her, when Irodia jumped out of her seat to hold me back.

"Rocío, please! Hitting her isn't going to do anything!" she tried to convince me.

"Haven't we been through this once already?" I grumbled.

"Yes, and there's no point in going through it again. You should just go to your room and cool off before you blow your top."

"Fine!" I threw Irodia's arms off me and marched to my room, slamming the door shut. "Let her keep the picture! I don't care anymore!" I yelled through the door. "You hear me! Just KEEP it! Keep it for all I care!"

"Rocío, you're acting like a child," Tyler grumbled, pounding on the door. "Unlock this door at once, young lady."

"Who cares if she's acting like a child?" I heard Mikhaila ask snidely. "She deserved having that picture stolen anyway! I say she's made her bed, just let her lay in it."

"Take that back, Mikhaila," Irodia ordered. "We run a house of discipline, I'm not going to let anarchy take over."

_Does it matter?_ I thought to myself as I laid down on the bed, listening to the rain as it started to pour outside, as well as Tyler's demands that I let him in. _Looks like she already rules the house anyway, and her own parents are just puppets. I'm not becoming another one of her puppets, no way in hell._

_-----_

I dunno what was harder to deal with at school the next day – the power struggle between Mikhaila and me, or the fact that I'd eventually have to face that son of a bitch who tried to get me in bed with him while I was drunk. Whatever memory I had of the latter made me shudder in disgust. No way that could have been me at that party; I would never let my guard down like that. _I must've been really out of it to let myself get like that,_ I thought. _And it's Mikhaila's fault too. Damn, everything's her fault! She really must have it out for me!_

I tried to not let myself dwell on that as I made my way through the school day, half-listening to the teachers' lectures and BSing my way through several quizzes along the way. By the time it was lunch break, however, I had noticed a disgusting rumor start to circulate its way through the school.

"Ok, what's going on?" I inquired to Sara when I passed her in the hallway on the way to my locker. "I've noticed kids giving me weird looks all day."

"Well, I figured YOU'D know," she replied, wide-eyed.

"No, I don't."

"Were you at Rob's party on Saturday night?"

"Yes," I groaned. "Is this about that?"

"Yeah. Rob is bragging to everybody about how he got you to sleep with him."

"WHAT?" I nearly dropped my backpack to the floor in surprise, while several kids who were passing us gave me a weird look when they heard me yell. "That BASTARD!"

Sara looked at me, confused. "What, you didn't sleep with him?"

"Hell no! I got drunk – not on purpose, mind you – and then he had the balls to try to seduce me while I was out of it!"

"What about the bruises he has, then? He said you were just rough in bed."

My eyebrow twitched. "I had a flashback about when my dad stabbed me, and I freaked out and beat the crap out of him."

"Ohhh."

"The only reason I even know that he tried to sleep with me is because Xania told me I'd told her about it. I actually don't really remember much of that night myself."

"Well then, I guess we have to try to dispel that ugly rumor, hmm?"

"Damn right," I concurred. "Could you tell Juliana, Vicky, and Karen for me? I don't wanna have to repeat myself any more times than I'll have to."

"Sure," she said, smiling. "Oh, about you being drunk…"

"What?"

"Didn't you get a hangover afterwards?"

"Yeah, but Xania helped take care of me," I grudgingly admitted. "My head feels fine now. Thanks for asking."

"No problem. I'll try to tell people that Rob's just inflating his own ego with that story he's spreading, but right now I gotta get to class."

"So do I. Thanks, Sara."

"Sure!"

As she walked away, I groaned and tossed my backpack over my shoulder and headed to my next class. Somehow I knew I wouldn't be able to get away with beating Rob up, and as it turned out, I was right. I was sure it wouldn't take much 'convincing' to get him to retract his story though. _He's probably just all talk, the bastard,_ I thought.

-----

The rest of the day, whenever kids would tease or ask about the supposed fling I had with Rob, I'd just casually explain the true story, hoping they'd shut up about it afterwards. A few kids believed me, but others thought I was just trying to keep an 'aura of mystery' around me. One boy even dared to ask how many guys I'd slept with, and the only reason he got away without any bruises was because the math teacher happened to walk in at that moment and told us to lay off.

By the time math class was over, I sighed in relief. Finally, I could get out of here and away from the jeers and jokes from the other kids. As I headed out to the student parking lot, Xania jogged up to me and accompanied me.

"People been giving you shit all day?" she asked. I nodded wearily.

"Yeah. I just wanna get out of here," I groaned. "I haven't gotten this much attention since I first went back to school after getting shot through the leg."

"At this rate, you'll probably have to wear a wig to get through the parking lot safely," she quipped.

"I'm not gonna wear any wig. If people wanna give me shit, that's their business, but just because they're giving me shit doesn't mean that I'm going to be forced into hiding. Rocío Monterrey doesn't hide!"

"You'd be right about that," I heard a guy say behind me. I stopped in my tracks, then slowly turned around to face a guy whose face was black and blue, yet was grinning. _That face kinda looks familiar,_ I thought.

"Dammit, you've caused enough bullshit for one day, Rob," Xania snapped. "Lay off."

"What?" he asked innocently, putting his hands up in front of him as if in surrender. "What're you telling me to lay off for?"

"Rosho didn't sleep with you. We all know that."

"She was drunk, she probably can't remember anything."

"You'd be right, I can't remember," I admitted, folding my arms over my chest. "But just because I can't remember doesn't mean people should be taking YOUR word for it."

"C'mon, you know that we fucked each other crazy that night," he said, grinning impishly. "Just look at the bruises you gave me! You're one rough girl!"

"You're just too chickenshit to admit that you got beat UP by a girl, that's all," I spat. "Trust me, it'll be easier on yourself if you admit THAT, rather than have me kick your ass again."

"Yeah, you do that," he said, beckoning me to come towards him. "Come kick my ass any day, girl. You're welcome to it."

I smirked. "Ok, since you asked…"

I took a few steps towards him, but before I could even swing my fist, I heard the cocking of a gun behind me and froze. Who was that?

"Take it back, Rob," I heard a voice say.

"Greg?" Xania exclaimed. I spun around and sure enough, there was Greg, just a step behind me and with a very nice-looking gun in his hand.

Greg aimed the gun at Rob and ordered, "Just take it back, Rob."

"S-shit, man, don't need to shoot me!" Rob said, suddenly shaken.

"Rocío's a nice girl. I've known her a couple months, and I know that she wouldn't just hop into bed with any random guy. If she WAS drunk, then I bet you were just trying to take advantage of her. So just take back the story and I won't have to cap you."

"Greg, I can do this myself," I grumbled.

"You're just jealous you didn't have her in YOUR bed!" Rob threw at him.

Greg put his finger on the trigger, threatening to pull it. "Don't make me put a bullet in your forehead, you asshole! I'll do it!"

Rob scuffed the sole of his shoe against the asphalt and cursed under his breath. "Fine! I didn't sleep with Rocío. She WAS in my bed though, and nearly butt naked too, but she flipped on me and beat me up. There, happy?"

"Yes. Now get outta here."

Rob turned and walked off, grumbling under his breath. Once he was out of sight, Greg put his gun in his backpack, then turned to me. "There, he won't be buggin' ya anymore," he said, grinning.

"Oh, my knight in shining armor," I groaned sarcastically. "You didn't need to do that for me. I had it under control."

"But you were a damsel in distress. It was my royal duty to save you," he replied, playing along.

"Call me that again, and you're the one who's gonna have your ass kicked instead of Rob's."

Xania sighed pseudo-dreamily. "Ah, our hero!"

Greg bowed. "At your service anytime, m'lady."

_Didn't they break up?_ I thought; I could've sworn I heard Xania tell me as much.

"Well, we gotta get goin', Greg. Thanks again!" Xania said, heading to my bike. I started to follow, but instead turned back to Greg and pulled him aside.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked.

"No," I said. "Where'd you get that gun of yours?"

"Someplace downtown."

"Know where?"

"Yeah. Why?" he inquired.

"'Cause that's obviously a very nice gun, and I want one like it." I smiled sweetly. "So, could you tell me where to go to get one?"

"Aren't you underage? You're gonna get hell if you're under eighteen."

"I'm seventeen, but that's never stopped me before."

"What would you want a gun for, anyway?"

"Protection," I said bluntly.

"From who? People like Rob?"

"Something like that."

He sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Ok, where I got it from is from this black-market dealer. It's not a problem to get a gun from him even if you're underage. He'll sell one to ya for a good price too, a lot cheaper than what a licensed dealer will want."

"So tell me how to get there!" I persisted.

Greg reached into his backpack and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. As he started to write down the directions, he said, "Ok, you gotta go to eastern downtown to the Bella María restaurant, then you head a block north of there to Evans Boulevard. On the left side, between the two big buildings there, there'll be a big alleyway. Go in there. There's a shooting range there called the Black Spider. Go in there and ask for Bert, and tell him I sent ya. He'll take it from there."

"Thanks," I said, taking the paper from him and jamming it into my backpack. "You sure he won't try anything funny? I don't need anything like that right now."

"Well, he might, but if he sees you're not interested, he'll get the hint."

"Ok. Thanks."

After Greg walked away towards his car, I headed to my bike and climbed on in front of Xania. "What'd you ask him?" she asked as I started it up.

"Just wondering where he got his gun," I said innocently. "Got any plans this weekend?"

"Saturday I'm free. Why?"

"I was just thinking you and I could take a ride downtown."

-----

Just like with the party situation the previous weekend, Irodia refused to let me go anywhere until I had my homework done. As a result, I ended up rushing through it, and she made me stay even longer to get it all right. Once it was done though, I grabbed my jacket, ran out the door, and rode my bike to Xania's place and picked her up.

It was about a half-hour ride to downtown Sacramento. This was my first trip down here, and once I was hit with all the sounds and smells of the place, it instantly reminded me of Tokyo. I had to stop thinking of that for the moment, though, so I could look for the Bella María restaurant that Greg was talking about.

Xania started sniffing the air. "I smell Mexican food! We're close!"

"Where do I go?" I asked.

"Straight down the street, then make a left to get to Evans. That's the street you need, right?"

"Yeah."

After another minute of driving, I saw the restaurant on my left, then I made a left turn at that intersection, and after being stuck in traffic for another ten minutes or so, I found Evans.

"Two big buildings, just like he said," I remarked, parking next to the closest parking meter available.

"What a part of town to have a shooting range at," Xania said, hugging herself and shivering as I put change into the parking meter.

"Is this part of town bad?"

"Prostitution and murder. Now why the hell would Greg send you here for a lousy gun?"

"Well, I imagine the murderers need a place to get a good gun," I quipped, taking off my helmet. "Doesn't surprise me this place would be in this kind of neighborhood."

"You really ARE a city girl, arentcha! See a lot of violence where you grew up?" she inquired.

"Inside or outside my home? About the same either way," I said, trying to sound cynical about it.

"Heh. Right…"

I headed in between the two buildings, and at first sight, it looked like any other regular street alley. Once I walked past a dumpster, however, I noticed something behind it. I shoved the dumpster aside, with help from Xania, and saw a door with the words 'Black Spider' scrawled on it.

"This don't look good," Xania said, looking suspicious.

"Only one way to find out," I said. I took a breath, then knocked on the door. _If I get killed by these guys, it would be the biggest piece of irony I'll have ever seen,_ I groaned in my head. Hiding out here in the U.S., only to be offed by a bunch of thugs? Well, it would beat getting ripped apart by a Boomer, but if these guys had a bunch of cybernetic implants, then getting killed by them wouldn't really make a difference.

After a tense moment, I heard a voice behind the door. "Who there!" a guy demanded.

"I'm Rocío Monterrey," I called to him. "A friend of mine named Greg sent me here to talk with some guy named Bert."

I heard several locks click, and then the door opened, and a black guy wearing a bandanna greeted me. "Good. Was hopin' you weren't no cops."

"Nope, no cops around here."

"Get in here," he said, ushering us in. He looked around to make sure no one else was in the alley, then shut the door and locked it.

The guy, who said his name was Juan, led us down a dark flight of stairs to where the shooting range was. I held my nose most of the way down; the walls smelled like something had died in them. Xania apparently had the same reaction, for she was waving her hand in front of her face the whole time, as if to get the smell away from her face.

"Hold it," Juan suddenly said, stopping us. "Lift your arms." I did so, and he patted my sides up and down, then turned me around and patted my butt.

"I don't have a wire," I said, catching on to what he was searching for. "And stop patting my ass."

"Your girlfriend here wired?"

"No, my tail is really a hidden microphone," Xania quipped. "You're really anal, arentcha!"

"This place isn't legal, of course he's anal," I mumbled as Juan resumed his march, and we followed him down the rest of the stairs and down a hallway that was just as rotten-smelling as the stairs were. I regretted not bringing a noseplug. Then, Juan came to a stop and opened a door on the right, and when Xania and I stepped through, I saw what was definitely a shooting gallery. There was a row where people could line up to shoot, and at the opposite end was a moving conveyor belt with cutouts of cops and civilians to shoot at. _Now all it needs is some Boomers,_ I thought dryly.

"YO! Bert!" Juan called into the shadows. "Some gals here to see ya!" Out of the shadowy corner came a very tall and well-built guy, his arms covered in tattoos, a scar over his right eyebrow. He looked at me, eyed me up and down, then looked at Xania.

"Lookin' a little delicate to be comin' to this kinda place, eh?" Bert inquired.

"I want a gun. My friend here, her ex-boyfriend referred me to you," I said.

"What's the guy's name?"

"Greg."

"Oh, him. Yeah, I know 'im pretty well. Comes down here all the time to do some target practice. Nice guy, but I don't like his pretty-boy looks." He flicked his cigarette onto the floor and ground it into the floor with his heel to put it out. "What's your name?"

"Rocío. And this is Xania."

Bert eyed Xania and grinned. "Yeah, Greg's talked about you. Once I saw that tail, I figured it musta been you."

"Not like I'm the only girl in town with a tail," Xania said, crossing her arms.

"Probably not," he agreed, "but how many have a monkey-style tail, have spiky black hair, and wear pink-tinted shades?"

"That guy, he never did stop gushin' on about me," she said, grinning nostalgically. I cleared my throat.

"Oh, right," Bert said, turning to me. "So why'd you want a gun?"

"Protection, what else?"

"Works for me. You'd need at least a .45 then."

"I think that's what my last gun was."

Xania raised an eyebrow; she hadn't known I'd had a gun before. "You've had a gun? What happened to it?" Bert asked.

"It was wrecked."

"Wrecked? You don't let a gun get wrecked!" he spat, practically bawling me out. "You treat a gun like you would your own seed, y'hear?"

"Well, it was under, ahem, extenuating circumstances. Don't make me elaborate," I said, crossing my arms as I eyed him, warning him not to push me. He seemed to get the hint, for he relaxed and let out a breath.

"What kinda shit did you want on this gun you want? Name it, I probably got somethin' with those features on it." He walked over to a large cabinet, unlocked it, and opened it up. I gasped when I saw the arsenal that he had.

"Damn! That's a lot of guns!" I gasped, gaping.

"Like I said…" he said, grinning.

"Well, uh…" I had to stop and think for a moment. "I want one that's a semi-automatic, at least a .45 like you said, gas-operated, and can have grenades attached to it."

"High-maintenance girl," Bert quipped, scratching his head, yet looking amused. "You sure it's just for protection and not for startin' a turf war with some gang?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," I said nonchalantly.

"Whaddaya mean gas-operated?" Xania cut in. "A gun that needs gas to operate?"

I snickered. "No, it doesn't need gas."

"The kid means that she wants a gun that when you fire it, the gases that are used when firin' it are sent back through the gun to make it work," Bert explained.

"Makes it so there's not as much recoil," I concurred.

"Ohh. That works," Xania said, looking a little confused.

"And it also spits out the spent round, cocks the gun, and puts another bullet in the chamber so it's ready to fire again," Bert finished.

"I ain't a gun buff, but still sounds cool." She still looked confused.

"Did ya want one that loads the clip in the handle, or in front of the trigger?" Bert asked, looking through his guns.

"In front of the trigger," I said. "And do you have one that'll fit a 15-round clip?"

"Fifteen? Sure do. Anythin' else?"

"Yeah. Do you have one that has a fingerprint reader?"

"O' course."

_Can't be too safe,_ I thought. At least if I had a fingerprint reader on my gun, no one else would be able to use it if they got a hold of it; only I would be able to fire it. That would also keep a potential disaster from happening if Mikhaila happened to find the gun and look down the barrel to see if it was loaded…although part of me wished that would happen.

"Ah, think you'll like this one," Bert called out, donning some gloves before picking up a very spiffy-looking black gun that reminded me a lot of Mom's Member II. "It's a Warther. Gotta love the Germans, they make the best fuckin' guns on Earth."

"What kind of Warther?" I asked.

"It's a new kind they started making about three years ago. It's called the Spitdevil."

"Spitdevil?"

"Yeah. Weird name, but great fuckin' gun. Wanna try it out?"

"Does it have everything?"

"Semi-automatic, .45 caliber, gas-operated, fits grenades, is a front-loader, and has a fingerprint reader on the trigger," he rattled off.

"That works for me."

"Ok." He walked over and handed me a pair of goggles to wear, and after I put them on, he handed me the gun and a clip. I stood there with the gun in my hand, eyeing it at every possible angle. It was great! It looked a lot like my old gun. I loaded the gun, then turned and stood at the counter in front of the moving targets, spreading my legs apart slightly. I aimed the gun, straightened my arms, then waited for the right target – a cop – to pop in front of me. Then I fired.

The sound of a clang filled the air as the bullet went slamming into the metal face of the fake officer. I grinned and cheered, then started firing at all the cops that I could. Every single one of them, I hit in the face or in the chest, whichever one I aimed at. Bert looked impressed.

"You've trained with guns, I see," he said.

_All sorts of weapons, not just guns,_ I thought. "Yeah, I have. This thing is kick-ass!" I exclaimed. "How much is it?"

"That's the bad part," he said. "$1,200."

"Huh?" I almost dropped the gun in surprise. "Just for this?"

"Hey, you're lucky that I like ya," Bert said, smirking. "If I didn't, I'd be charging ya way more for it. And 'sides, I gotta make it worthwhile to bring all the way over from Germany. The Spitdevil's illegal here, like all grenade-fittin' guns are, and if I can't make some money on it…" He shrugged. "That's what you get for wanting one with all the fancy stuff on it."

I took off the goggles and tossed them aside. "This is bullshit! It was EASY for my mom to get me a gun back home, and back there, just about every kind of gun is illegal."

"How much did she pay for it?"

"…I dunno. But she wanted me to make sure I'd be able to protect myself."

Bert suddenly got a mischievous grin on his face. "Wellll…I might be able to work out a compromise."

"I know that grin," I growled. "I'm not going to stoop that low just to get a gun. You can forget it."

"Not even some oral action?" he teased.

"NO! I've never done that, and I'm not gonna start now! I'd just as soon go without a gun."

"What about your friend then? She and Juan are lookin' like they're havin' fun." He nodded behind me, and I turned around and saw Juan and Xania in the back corner, all over each other.

"Oh God." I slapped my hand over my face. "Xania, not here!"

Xania stopped kissing Juan and looked at me curiously. "Huh? Oh, it's nothin', Rosho! We're just kissin' and getting to know each other a little better."

"At least clothes aren't flying," I groaned.

"I have an idea," Bert said, that grin pasted on his face. "Yo, Xania!"

"What?" she called.

"Ever had a guy watch ya go at it with another guy before?"

"I'm not hearing this, I'm not hearing this," I mumbled, putting my hands over my ears and humming a tune.

"Yeah, why?"

"Your friend here doesn't like the price of the gun that she's fallen in love with, so I figure we could work somethin' out."

"Like what?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow as she climbed off Juan's lap.

"Lemme watch you and Juan get all sweaty, and if I'm happy with what I see, I'll give your friend a break on the price."

"You people are sick," I said to myself, dumbfounded that this was actually happening. I was almost hoping that Xania would refuse, though in the back of my mind, I knew she'd go for it.

Which she did.

"I don't have to watch, do I?" I groaned.

"Nah, I will," Bert said, grinning. I groaned again. "You can wait out in the hallway while they're gettin' hot and heavy if it bugs ya."

"Thanks for giving me that option, I guess." I looked at Xania. "Just be careful, ok?"

"I will, I will. Don't worry. Depending on what these guys want, we might take a while though."

"Fine."

I left the gun on the counter and left the room, closing the door behind me. I sat down, leaning against the opposite wall, hoping that Juan and Xania's groans of pleasure wouldn't seep through the walls. I even plugged my ears in case that was going to be the case, but fortunately, it wasn't. When I realized that, I breathed a sigh of relief. _Oh duh, this is a secret shooting gallery, of course he's gonna make it soundproof in case anybody comes snooping around,_ I thought, inwardly hitting myself for thinking the walls would really be that thin. Ah, mixed blessings.

A short while later, Bert told me I could come back in, and when I walked back into the room, Xania and Juan were just finishing getting redressed. Xania looked at me and flashed a weary grin as she put on her shades. I just rolled my eyes and snatched the gun off the counter, firing it once to make sure that it was only reading my prints and not anyone else's.

"So what's the price now that you had your fun?" I inquired.

"$800. That's a real deal for that kind of gun, so you should be thankful," Bert said, lighting another cigarette.

"Better than $1,200, but I don't have $800 with me."

"How much do you got with ya?"

"$500, but I'll be getting more next month."

"Where ya get that money from? You deal drugs?" he joked.

"My mom provides for me every month. Anyway, how about I just give you $400 now, and next month I'll give you the other $400?"

"And what if I don't get the other $400?" He started to frown.

"If I wanted to rip you off, I would've just run out of here with the gun the moment you put it in my hands. I'll be back next month with the rest of the money, you have my word."

"I'm not fond of payment plans with first-time customers," he said, eyeing me suspiciously. "Just give me the $400, and if I don't get the other half by this time next month, I WILL be coming after you."

"You do that," I replied cheekily as I dug out my wallet and forked over $400 in cash. Bert waved the bundle in front of his face and sniffed.

"Ah, never get tired of the smell of greenbacks," he said, putting the money away. He rifled through the gun cabinet, then handed me a few 15-round clips. "I always give customers some free clips. No use having a gun if you don't have ammo to go with it."

"Throw in a grenade too. Just one."

He grinned and shook his head in disbelief as he grudgingly handed me a grenade, which I put away in my jacket along with the gun and clips. "You'd make a great con artist, Rocío."

"I know," I replied, grinning as me and Xania headed out the door. "This time next month, I'll be back."

"Juan, lead the ladies out," Bert said, nodding towards us. Juan nodded and led us back down the smelly hallway and up the stairs, and I winced as the fresh sunlight hit my eyes.

"After I close the door, put the dumpster back in front of it," he ordered.

"Will do," Xania and I both replied.

Before closing the door, Juan winked at Xania. "See ya later." Then, the door was shut.

After we both shoved the dumpster back in front of the door and headed out to my bike, Xania just grinned and wagged her tail. "Have fun?" I asked dryly.

"He was ok," Xania said, shrugging. "He didn't have much experience, but we had to make it look fun for that tattooed guy, so I just pretended that that Juan guy was the best lover ever." She leaned closer to me as I pulled on my helmet. "Which he wasn't."

"You already said that." We both climbed on, and I started up my bike. "I feel bad though. I wouldn't have gotten the gun if it meant that you'd have to sleep with some stranger."

"Don't feel bad. I was fine with it," she said, wrapping her arms around my waist as I drove down the street. "Besides, you wanted protection, and hell, in this town, you'll need it."

"That reminds me…did YOU use protection?"

"With Juan? Yeah. I slipped a rubber on him beforehand."

"Well…that's good."

"You really need to loosen up." She slapped me lightly on the back. "Maybe I should hook you up with someone so you learn not to be so uptight about shit like this. Learn to let down your guard and have some fun for a while!"

"I'd rather not…"

"I know! How about I hook you up with Greg? He's great company AND great in bed! What else could you want?"

"A real life?" I responded sarcastically. "It's hard enough doing school and homework and tai chi and church. After all that, I have hardly any time left, so why would I want to waste it with some guy? After last weekend, I'm really not in a hurry to jump into a relationship."

"Rob was a bastard, I know, but forget about him!"

"Xania, he…he molested me. I don't want to get myself into a situation where that might happen again. I don't trust guys as it is. Can we just drop it?"

"…Fine. But that won't stop me from trying to hook you up!" she warned me, laughing.

I smirked. "I just dare you to try that, 'cause I won't fall for it."

"Oh, you never know!"


	4. Head over feet

After I shot it with a few of my railgun needles, the blackish Boomer in front of me twitched for a moment, spewing orange fluids out of its chest and mouth before crumpling to the asphalt. I grinned and stood back, admiring my handiwork for a moment before scanning the area for any more that might've slipped away.

"Priss, on your left!" Linna yelled over the comm.

"I hear ya," I answered, turning in that direction just in time to see another Boomer heading my way. It opened its mouth and growled before firing its mouth cannon at me. I ducked the beam, then ran at it and decked it in the stomach with my Knuckle Bomber. While it was reeling, I dived between its legs, then stood up and delivered a roundhouse kick to the thing's back with my Leg Bombers. The Boomer howled in pain – if it could feel it, anyway – and turned to face me, its eyes glowing red.

"C'mon, fight. You're making this too easy," I wisecracked, grinning as I braced myself for the Boomer's next attack. It responded by diving at me, but I easily jumped out of the way and over the Boomer. I didn't even give it a chance to recover before I landed on its back and gave it the finishing blow, slamming my Knuckle Bomber into the back of its neck. It twitched, then went still.

I snorted and stood up once I was sure that it was dead. Something about these Boomers that had gone rogue lately bugged me, but I couldn't quite place my finger on what it was. I forgot about that for the moment and used my jumpjets to jet up to the top of a nearby building to see if any of the others were having trouble fighting the Boomers they'd come up against. Unfortunately, nobody needed help; I just stood there and watched as Linna did flips around the Boomer she was fighting, and with a holler, she did a spin and sent her ribbons cutting through the Boomer, and it fell to the ground in five pieces. I turned my head slightly to the right and saw Sylia finishing up as well.

"That's it," Sylia said when I leapt down from my perch. "That's all of them."

"Not quite," Linna said, chuckling when the sound of Nene screaming became audible. "I think Nene's having trouble still."

Strangely enough, not long after Linna had said that, the sound of gunshots was heard, followed by another of Nene's high-pitched yelps, and then, a cheer. "I got it!" she exclaimed.

"Good for you," Linna said. A few moments later, our friend in the red-and-pink hardsuit appeared, looking a little beat-up but otherwise ok.

"That thing just didn't want to die," Nene panted, trying to wipe the fluids off of her suit. "It was tough."

"I dunno," I said. "The ones I fought were easy enough."

"Yeah, same here," Linna agreed.

"Let's get out of here," Sylia interrupted, beckoning us to go when the sound of police sirens could be heard.

Once we got back to Sylia's building, I decided not to hang around; I just changed back into my normal clothes and headed home. Something about that battle still was nagging me in the back of my mind, but damn, what was it? I tried to not think about it as I walked in the door, took off my clothes, and stepped into the hot shower, but still…I could tell that something wasn't right. The battles these past few weeks…they hadn't really been much of a challenge at all. Hell, I hardly broke a sweat fighting those Boomers, and even Nene had killed a few, but whether she was getting better or the Boomers were getting lazy, I couldn't tell.

_That's it,_ I thought, my face hardening in thought as I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair. _The Boomers have been too easy! They're not half as tough as they were when Yume was around. And somehow, I doubt that's a coincidence…_ Did it mean anything? My gut feeling said yes, and I could feel my stomach start to turn at the thought.

After I stepped out of the shower and dried my hair, I got into my nightshirt and panties, then crawled lazily into bed._ Madigan must be up to something,_ I thought. _Must be…_

_-----_

I didn't sleep well that night at all. When I woke up, I felt like I had just gone to bed and not slept a wink. I grumbled and got dressed, had two or three cups of coffee for breakfast, and then headed out to the Silky Doll. I just couldn't shake this feeling I had that something wasn't right. Maybe I was reading too much into this; maybe Genom was finally giving up. Ha, yeah right…like they would give up that easily. Just because Yume had gone to Genom Tower and stirred things up a bit didn't mean that they were gonna lay down and die, though in a way, it would've been interesting, seeing that huge corporation brought down by a seventeen-year-old. I had to chuckle at the thought, and then I started feeling sick again at remembering that my own daughter had nearly gotten herself killed, and for what? Sure, I bet she felt like she had avenged Michiko, but now I was sure that Genom would be gung-ho to pay that favor right back.

Once I got to Sylia's building, I parked my bike in the parking garage, then walked the short distance to the Silky Doll. I walked inside and pretended to act like any other customer, looking at the various kinds of lingerie, and once the few customers that were in the store had left, I walked over to Sylia.

"Hey," I said.

"What brings you here, Priss?" Sylia asked.

"I need to talk to you about something. It's bugging the hell outta me."

"All right. Come back here." She motioned her head towards a back room, and then we both headed in there, first making sure that none of the other employees like Heather were in there.

After she locked the door, Sylia lit a cigarette and took a puff from it. "So what was on your mind?" she inquired.

"Just this feeling that's been nagging at me for a few weeks now."

"Relating to the Madigan situation?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I know you, Priss. You've probably noticed the same things I have, about the Boomers that have been sent out lately."

"Yeah, exactly. Just seems like they're getting easier to kill every time." I smirked and added, "When Nene starts being able to kill 'em, doesn't that say something?"

"Well, there's no doubting that Genom has been lax in what kind of Boomers they've sent out. Linna told me last night that she's noticed it too. And Nene's just excited that she doesn't need anyone else's help."

"Think it means anything?"

"Yes, I do." She took another puff from her cigarette and tapped her foot. "I believe that Madigan may be trying to have us let our guard down."

"By sending out wimpy-ass Boomers?"

"In part. But there's more to it than that. We can't let our guard down, even when the Boomers we fight seem to be easy to defeat. Madigan's going to expect us to be lackluster when we're overconfident in our ability, and that is probably when she is going to strike."

"I thought she was after Yume," I said.

"She is, but Yumeko is not the only Knight Saber. She is only one of five. There is still the other four to deal with, the veterans, if you will. Madigan knows we're protecting her, and so if we're out of the way, we cannot protect her anymore."

I sighed and scratched my head. "Makes sense…" I mumbled.

"Case in point, we just can't afford to let our guard down at any time, no matter what the reason. We need to be aware. Don't get too confident and think that the 'easy' Boomers are all that are going to be sent out."

"I gotcha. No cracks in the armor, so to speak."

"Yes."

"When do you suppose she might make her move?"

"I don't know. But that doesn't mean that we don't have to be careful."

"Damn, I hate this," I mumbled. I held out my hand and pointed at her cigarette. "Can I borrow that for a sec?" She handed it to me, and I took a quick puff and handed it back to her. "Thanks."

"Don't get yourself worked up, Priss," she warned me. "That won't help us take care of Madigan."

"I know that!" I snapped. "But Yume's my daughter. I want her to be safe!"

"You're her mother, it's instinct. And the rest of us want her to be safe too. But worrying isn't going to help matters any."

I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, there was a knock at the door. "Are you in there, Sylia?" Nene asked.

"Yes, with Priss," Sylia replied.

"Ok. This customer needs some help with a bra, and she wanted you to help her instead of me."

"All right, I'm coming." She put out her cigarette, then unlocked the door and let me leave first. After we headed back into the main section of the shop, she went to help the customer while Nene dragged me off to the side.

"Priss, I want to tell you something!" she whispered excitedly.

"I know you're happy about killing Boomers by yourself. We all know," I joked.

"Not that, not that. I was talking with Sylia this morning about Yumeko, and I have some good news!"

"Like what?" I inquired.

"Well, it's going to be Christmas in a few weeks. Every year for Christmas, Tyler takes Irodia and Mikhaila to Minnesota for a Christmas celebration with his family. Irodia always wants me to go with her, but I'm always busy, especially now, since the Sabers have started up again. But I've worked it out with Sylia so that I can head over to the States for a week or so."

"So…you're gonna be able to see Yume?"

"Yup! But unfortunately, you can't come along."

"I know," I said in a low voice. "It would look weird having me over there."

"Yeah, everybody recognizes you as Priss of Priss and the Replicants, so that wouldn't work out at all. But don't worry, I'll be sure to let you know how she's doing when I get back."

"When are you leaving?"

"The 20th. I'll be back on the 28th. Hopefully no big Boomer incidents will occur while I'm gone."

"I think we'll manage," I said dryly.

"You look kind of worried. Are you ok?" she asked.

"It's been almost three months since Yume left, but…I'm already seeing a change in her. In each vidletter I get, it's like she has a bigger and bigger shell around her. In the first one, she was close to crying almost the whole time, but in the one I got last week, she's hardly emotional at all. And she's been more reluctant to open up about what's been going on in her life over there."

"I don't think it's anything to worry about," Nene said, smiling. "Maybe she's just too busy living a normal life to think much of anything over here."

I shook my head. "I don't think that's it. I know what she's doing. She's trying to…to cut herself off from everything emotionally, so it doesn't hurt anymore. She's trying to pretend none of it ever happened, or is at least trying not to think about it. The summit was traumatic enough, and not just for her, but…I think Michiko's murder finally put her over the edge."

"Priss…she was right there when the police found her body. You sure she'd try to pretend that Michiko's still alive?" I nodded.

"She was Yume's best friend…it must be awful to think that her best friend is dead. She's gonna try to cope however she sees fit, and I guess cutting her emotions off is her coping mechanism."

Nene thought for a moment. "Well…if she has done that, then she's really taking after her mom in more than one way."

I grumbled. "She's been through more in this past year than most people go through in a lifetime, and she's still a teenager! She's seventeen! She's not supposed to be going through ANY of this! The biggest thing she's supposed to be worrying about is training for the Olympic trials!" I took a deep breath to try to calm myself down; it didn't work.

"If it's any consolation, I'll talk to Yumeko when I get the chance, ok?" Nene assured me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't try acting like a therapist or psychologist or anything, though. She won't go for it."

She grinned. "I'm her 'aunt,' I'm sure I can tell her without sounding that way."

"One thing, though. Just try to call her Rocío when you're not alone with her, ok? As far as we know, Irodia's the only one who knows that's not her real name." I chuckled.

"I know. And I'm sure if I do start to call her Yumeko in person, Irodia would hit me on the shoulder to let me know," she laughed.

"Nene, I appreciate all this. Thanks."

She smiled gently, then said, "I should probably get back to work now."

"Yeah, go on. I was just going to leave, anyway."

I waved bye to Sylia and Nene, then headed out the door and to the parking garage. I slipped on my helmet, and after I started up the bike, pulled out, and drove down the street, I could feel the emotions starting to build up. I swallowed deeply and took a breath; God, I missed my daughter so much! I hoped that she wasn't doing the exact same damn thing I'd done at her age, but with the way I'd seen her act in her recent vidletters, it seemed it was true.

I started humming a tune to get my thoughts off of what Yume could be doing to herself, and off the top of my head, I started mumbling a few lines:

_Yume mire, yume mire, (Dreaming, dreaming,)_

_anata to ashita o yume miteiru. (I'm dreaming of a tomorrow with you.)_

_Aishiteru to itteru (Telling you that I love you,)_

_sore dake hoshii ne. (that's all I want.)_

I smiled and revved up the bike some more as I sped down the street. I would have to remember to write down those words and make a song out of them; I was sure Yume would appreciate it.

-----

"Good, good," Kenneth said, grinning as I finished up part two of the long form. "You're coming along very well, Rocío. Now show me part three."

"I don't know it very well," I said, shyly returning the grin. "That lady-weaves-shuttle sequence is kind of confusing still."

"Yes, I know. Just remember to put your left foot in front of you before starting that sequence. It will come naturally to you."

"Ok, I'll try."

"Get into the infinity stance, and begin."

I got into the starting stance, then took a step to the side, took a breath as I raised my arms in front of me, then let it out and slowly lowered my arms. I did the 'embrace tiger, return to mountain' move, then the 'grasp sparrow's tail' sequence, which was how all three parts that I'd learned started out.

"Uh, what's next…" I mumbled to myself, freezing after I did the 'single whip' move.

"Part the wild horse's mane," Kenneth hinted.

"Oh, right!"

I did a sweeping motion in front of me with my arm, from right to left, then did 'lion plays with the ball,' which is like standing on one foot while holding a pretend ball between your hands. I did three more sets of 'wild horse's mane' and 'lion plays with the ball' before moving on to the next sequences. And once I got to the 'lady weaves shuttle' sequence, I made sure to put my left foot in front first, and sure enough, the three moves in that sequence that came afterwards came naturally.

After doing the 'wave hands like clouds' sequence – slowly stepping to the left while basically moving my arms in large circles – it was time for the 'snake creeps down' sequence. Finishing the clouds sequence, I crouched down, my left leg stretched out in front of me with my right leg bent underneath my body. I was supposed to slide up to my feet and balance on my left leg while holding my bent right leg up in front of me, with my right elbow on top of it, but when I slid up to my feet to balance, I ended up losing my balance, and I fell on my butt.

"Ow!" I yelled, wincing as I put a hand to my leg.

"Your leg still doesn't want to do that, huh?" Kenneth asked.

"Yeah." I rubbed my leg.

"Well, at least this time you were able to lift your right leg a little bit before falling. Last time, you didn't even get THAT far."

"I wish it would get better though."

"Give it time. The muscles still have to learn all those moves. They're still healing up from that gunshot wound they received."

"Maybe, but I still wish they'd heal faster," I groaned, standing up. Eight and a half months since the Boomer summit, and my leg was still giving me trouble. Ugh…I knew it would be hard work getting my leg up to speed again – those months of therapy with Linna certainly proved it – but that was just up to normal speed. To get it up to Olympic-level speed would take a hell of a lot more work, and knowing that annoyed the hell out of me._ The trials are in five and a half more months,_ I thought. _I gotta pick up the pace here!_

"Your body isn't going to care if you want to go to the Olympics," Kenneth pointed out, as if he could read my mind. "It knows better than to rush itself. It knows to take its sweet time. And you should know that, too. If you're not relaxed and you just want to hurry, your body is actually going to heal slower than it normally would if you would just learn to take your time."

"I know," I sighed. "Doesn't stop it from being annoying, though."

He chuckled. "I know." He looked at his watch and said, "Well, it's time to get out of here, anyway. Just practice part three, and if you mess up, just keep going. Your body will learn eventually." He picked up his duffel bag and patted me on the shoulder. "See you Monday, Rocío."

"See ya, Kenneth."

After he left, I jogged over to my duffel bag, picked it up, and headed into the locker room to change into my gymnastics leotard. I knew that for the trials, the judges would be looking at not only perfection of the moves, but originality as well. There was a new move that I'd been thinking about trying out, but it was only recently that I had been able to practice on the uneven bars again, so I hadn't been able to try it out. Until now.

"Yo! Rocío!" I heard a voice call out when I returned to the gym, clad in my leotard.

"Huh?" I looked around for a moment, then saw a guy at the front doors of the gym, waving at me. "Greg?"

"Hi." He jogged over to me. "Xania said you'd be over here doing your tai chi."

"I just finished up. I was just going to try out some moves on the uneven bars."

"Ah, so that explains the hot outfit," he cracked, grinning. I couldn't help but blush.

"So what do you want?" I inquired, tying my hair back in a ponytail.

"I was just gonna watch."

"And…?" I had a feeling there was more to it than that.

"Well…I was gonna ask if you wanted to go grab a burger or something."

"Uh…" I just stood there and blinked, dumbfounded. Was he asking me out on a DATE? I didn't know what to say. "Are you asking me out?" I finally asked, feeling my face and my ears turn bright red.

"If you say I am, then I am," he replied, smiling. "You know, you're beet-red right now."

I tried to cover up my cheeks with my hands, but it was no use. "No one's ever…asked me out before. Usually they just start out with the I-want-you-in-my-bed shit." Greg just laughed.

"Nah, I'm not that kind of guy. I know most girls don't go for that, especially you. I saw what went on between you and Rob."

"Would you not mention Rob?" I asked, disgusted just by the mention of his name. "I had no say in what happened then. I was drunk. It was a stupid move on my part."

"Hey, I know how it gets sometimes." He put a hand on my shoulder. "Sometimes it feels like the world is against you, and you just wanna forget about it all, so why NOT get drunk? That's why there's so many alcoholics in the world."

"And I don't intend on becoming one of them. That party was the first time I'd ever had more than one sip of booze, and I intend on making it the last time." I frowned; all those nasty memories were coming back now. "Could you just leave before I get even more pissed? I'd rather have just forgotten that any of that ever happened!"

"Sorry, sorry," he apologized, throwing his hands up in front of him as if in surrender. "So can we go out for burgers once you're done?"

"I would have to think about it," I said flatly. "Let's see what kind of a mood I'm in in about fifteen minutes and we'll see."

"Can I watch?"

"From the doors, yes."

He nodded acknowledgment and shuffled over to the doors, then folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the window. "This ok?" he called.

"Yeah, that's fine," I called back. "I'm gonna practice a little bit on the balance beam first before doing the bars." Greg just nodded and grinned. I stifled a grimace as I walked over to the end of the balance beam. Him suddenly showing all this interest in me unnerved me a little bit, though I tried not to show it. After all, Boh had been interested too, but I didn't realize just how much until he'd stuck his knife in my gut. Missed all the signs because I was too busy concentrating on my therapy and other things…

_Ugh, that's ridiculous,_ I thought. _I met him a few days after I first got here. No way could Genom have known I was coming here._ I shook my head to get those thoughts out of my head; I was probably being paranoid, but like Mom would say, a healthy case of paranoia never hurt. I backed up a few feet, then ran and jumped onto the balance beam, wobbling a little bit before getting some sense of balance. I slowly walked to the end of the beam, then turned around and walked to the other end, just to get a feel for the beam. Turning around again, I raised my hands up, then threw them in front of me, grasped the beam, and did a front-handspring. I landed on my feet ok, but it was a very wobbly landing. I frowned, turned around, and repeated the move, and this time wasn't much better. I cursed under my breath and tried a back-handspring, and for some reason, my landing wasn't as wobbly.

After a few minutes on the beam, I hopped down and headed over to the uneven bars. I stood back, cracked my knuckles, then spat into my hands and rubbed them together. _Ok, let's see how this goes,_ I thought, gulping as I gazed intently at the bars. I hadn't been on the bars since before the Boomer summit…God knew how rusty I might've been. I was hoping I wasn't TOO rusty. I was also hoping that my leg would be able to handle it; as much as I hated to think of it as a handicap, it might've become just that.

_Only one way to find out,_ I thought as I ran to the bars, then jumped up and grabbed the lower bar and swung myself around it. After going around it twice, I did a flip and grabbed the higher bar. I spun around it, then threw my legs up between my arms, my left leg tightening at the move, then did a backward flip and grabbed the bar again. _Ok, passed the first test. Now I wonder if I can do that new move I've been wanting to try out…_

I did a twist in mid-air after letting go of the high bar, then grabbed the low bar, did a few more twists, and went back up to the higher bar. I spun around it once, then pressed my feet against the bar, still grasping it tightly. I was going to try to do a few twists in mid-air while jumping backwards, and was gonna try to grab onto the lower bar while doing so. I pushed off the bar with my feet, then let go and went into a backwards flip. I figured I could do three of those before needing to grab the bar.

God, was I wrong.

After the third flip, I reached with both hands to grab the bar, but my body was too low. All I could do now was do a free-fall. All I could think before I hit the ground was, _Oh shit._

And then, a very loud snap as I landed on my arm.

I screamed in pain and lay sprawled out on the mat, gently grabbing my arm while biting my lip to keep from yelling any more. In seconds, Greg was at my side, along with several other girls who had seen me fall. "You ok?" I heard him ask.

I slowly opened one eye and gazed up at him, still grimacing and holding my upper arm. "I broke my arm, what do you think?" I groaned.

"I'll go call a doctor," one of the girls said, running off.

"Just hold still, ok?" the other girl asked, putting her hands on my shoulders. "Don't move your arm."

"I know that," I snapped, trying to resist the urge to sit up.

"You really missed the bar," Greg said, grinning sheepishly as he scratched the back of his head. "Too many flips, it looked like."

"I was trying out a new move…guess I miscalculated how many flips I'd be able to do." I winced again at the pain, which was shooting up through my shoulder. "Damn, I forgot how much a broken arm hurt!"

"More than a splinter, less than an amputation," he quipped.

"I've had worse." I nodded towards the leg sleeve on my leg, which was covering up the scar there.

"Maybe, but you still have a broken arm right now."

"Ambulance is coming," the girl who'd left said, running back to us.

"Good," the second girl said. She looked at me and said, "Not much longer, ok?"

"Yeah, yeah," I groaned, rolling my eyes. I guess THIS would teach me to try out new moves early on in my training! Only good thing I could think of at the moment was that at least this had happened during training, and not during the trials or the Olympics themselves. _Next time, do TWO flips, not THREE,_ I screamed in my head, chiding myself. _Three's too many. Two next time!_

_-----_

It wasn't long before the ambulance came and took me to the hospital. The medics took me in to get x-rays done, and they showed exactly what I already knew: I had a fracture of the right humerus. The doctor noted that I had a healed fracture just a few inches above the spot that had been broken, and I just grinned to myself. That 'old' injury he saw was from when one of the Boomers at Genom Tower had kicked me, just a few months earlier.

I ended up getting a full cast, from my shoulder all the way to my hand. I was told that it would take a week to heal up. I just shrugged. "It's nothing," I said. "I've had worse." I lifted up my shirt and pointed to the scars on my stomach.

"Not new to pain, huh?" the doctor quipped. "They don't look like any injuries you'd get from gymnastics."

"I've been in a few fights."

The docs ended up calling Irodia, but Greg talked with her on the phone briefly and said for her not to come to the hospital. "She's fine. I'll give her a ride back to your place," he said, then paused. "Yeah. Yeah, she's gotta wear a cast for a week. …No, no, don't worry. Her head's still intact."

"Depends on what your definition of that is," I quipped.

He just grinned and kept talking to Irodia. "Yeah. Uh-huh, they just finished up. Ok. Bye." He hung up. "She sure freaked out when she heard you fell."

"Even if I DID land on my head, I don't think any damage woulda been done," I said cheekily. "And yeah, Irodia does tend to overreact a little bit."

"A little?" he joked. "She acted like you'd broken your neck." I just laughed.

"Yeah, that sounds like her, all right."

Once the docs said we could go, Greg led me outside and to his truck. He held open the door so I could get in, and once I was in, he shut the door and went over to his side and climbed in, starting it up.

"So…" he started to say.

"So what?" I asked.

Greg smirked. "Some first date, huh? Usually girls don't get broken bones till the third date."

"Hey!" I playfully smacked him on the arm and laughed again. "Don't take it personally. We can still go out for burgers sometime."

"Like when?"

I thought for a moment. "Well…how about in a week, when I can actually hold a burger again?" I joked.

"Heh, ok. Hope that heals up ok."

"I broke this arm a few months ago, and it healed up alright then. It'll be fine."

"How'd you break it last time?" he asked as we got onto the highway.

"Um…my dad pushed me down the stairs." Greg grimaced.

"Ouch. Well, um, sorry to say, but you don't look like the type who'd let anybody push you around, even your dad."

"Well…he…he was a very intimidating guy, kinda like those big Boomers that go nuts in Tokyo every so often."

"Well gee, if my dad was like one of them, I'd be scared too," he agreed. "Do you think he'll figure out that you're here?"

I took a breath. "I hope not. But I guess if he does, then I'll just have to kick his sorry ass, now won't I?"

"No need to do that with your new Spitdevil," he pointed out, getting an evil grin on his face. "I'm sure he'd back off once seeing that thing."

"How did you know what kind of gun I got?" I inquired.

"Xania told me."

I raised an eyebrow. "I coulda sworn that you two broke up."

"We did, but we're still friendly with each other."

_How friendly?_ I thought to myself, grimacing at the thought. "Well, that's good, I suppose."

We kept talking the whole way back to Irodia's house, mostly about normal things like school, and what we were going to do over Christmas break. I said that me and Irodia's family were going to go to Minnesota, and Greg said he and his family were going to go skiing in Vail. "You ever ski before?" he asked.

"No, can't say I have," I said, shaking my head. "I was always too busy with my gymnastics, and besides, those resorts are always crowded."

"Maybe I can teach you sometime," he suggested.

I cleared my throat. "Well…California's kind of a bad place to learn to ski, isn't it? Lack of snow and all…"

"You could come with me to Vail when you have the time."

I had to think about it for a moment. Did I REALLY trust this guy enough to be alone with him? I could feel myself pale, and I finally just shook my head. "No…no, I can't. I don't…"

"Don't trust me?"

"You're nice and all, but I…I'd rather not."

When we got to a red light at an intersection, Greg put a hand on my shoulder. "Rocío, I'm not a creep like Rob is. I'm not gonna try and fill you up with booze, then try to get you in bed. I'd love to just have someone to hang out with, y'know?"

"Yeah, I do. But…I've never trusted guys in general. You're…you're different from the ones I've known. It's a nice invitation, to go skiing with you, but…I'll decline."

"That's ok, it was a hypothetical invitation anyway," he said, grinning as the traffic light turned green and we headed down the street again. "I think you'd look hot in a skiing outfit though."

"What, didn't get enough of seeing me in that leotard?" I inquired jokingly.

"I wouldn't mind seeing you in that again," he admitted. "Hope I didn't distract you during your workout though."

"No, you didn't. Like you said, I just did one too many flips, that's all. Just need to practice more."

I told Greg to turn at a few streets, and before long, we were pulling up into the driveway of Irodia's house. I started to get out, but Greg told me to stay put while he got out and opened the door for me. "You know, you're a real ham," I said as I got out of the truck.

"Yeah, I know I am," he said, grinning.

"Thanks for the ride, Greg. Hopefully I won't need to ask you for one again."

"Oh, we'll see." He closed the door and walked me up to the door, but before I could open the door, Greg gently grabbed my cast, took out a marker, and started writing a number on it. "Here's my phone number in case you do need another ride," he joked.

"Again, I hope I won't need another one."

"Well, if you don't need a ride anywhere, you can still call. You're welcome to anytime."

"Thanks."

He turned to head down the walkway to his truck, but stopped and turned around. "Oh, I forgot to give you something…"

"Like what?"

Greg walked up to me, then put a hand on my cheek and looked me in the eyes. I could feel my heart start to pound. Was he going to give me a kiss? Would I LET him give me one? I was in shock; my feet refused to move. He leaned in closer, and all I could do was stand there and watch him, trying to see what he was going to do.

It wasn't a kiss he was going to give me. I knew it the moment he got that evil grin on his face. I laughed and started to pull away, but he grabbed me and gave me a noogie, just like what Xania would sometimes do. "Hey, no fair!" I giggled, managing to pull away from him. "What was that for?"

"I felt like it," he said, smirking. "You seem just like a little sister to me. Seemed like the appropriate thing to do."

"A little sister. Ha!"

"I bid you adieu now, m'lady," he said, grinning again as he bowed before heading to his truck and driving off.

Instead of heading inside, I stood there on the porch and watched him drive away, rubbing my sore head while grinning at the same time. He said I was like a little sister…hmph. What a big brother he'd make. And yet…I could still sense that he had some feelings for me that weren't quite what a brother and sister would feel for each other. _He's getting a crush on me!_ I thought, looking down at the phone number he'd written on my cast. _He doesn't know what he's getting into. Imagine having a Knight Saber as a girlfriend. He's nuts to be falling for somebody like me. He can't handle me._

It didn't make sense, this guy who was honestly worried about my well-being. It didn't seem like an act; it seemed like genuine concern. And it unnerved me, to say the least. _Greg DOES care,_ I thought. _But why? Who would want to care about ME? What does he see in me? Aw hell, why do I care what he sees? It's not like I have the same feelings for him! Just because he's not a bastard like the other guys I've known doesn't mean I'm gonna fall for him! Nope, he's just a nice guy. That's all there is to it._

_-----_

The week of school I had after I broke my arm was kind of interesting. The moment Xania, Juliana, and Sara saw me, they immediately wanted to know what happened, and I told them. Sara thought that to cheer me up, she'd draw a little picture on my cast. She took out a red marker and drew two hearts and colored them in, then wrote "Get better soon!" underneath.

"I know what it's like to be stuck in a cast for a while," she said. "It's no fun."

"Imagine having a cast fifty years ago," I replied. "People back then had to be stuck in 'em for six weeks instead of just one week or a few days."

"I'd go nuts from all the itching!" she said, squirming at the thought. "Sounds like it'd be torture!"

"No, being stuck with a leg brace for four months is torture."

Sara wasn't the only one who saw my cast as an empty canvas needing to be filled. Not long afterward, Xania approached me with a black marker in hand, and practically pinned me down so she could draw on it, too. She drew a smiley face with sunglasses and spiky black hair, and was making a peace sign.

"Why does that not surprise me?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"It shouldn't. This is me you're talking about here," Xania joked. She looked down and signed her name underneath the drawing, then looked down towards my wrist and saw the phone number written there. "Hey, that's Greg's number!"

"Yeah, it is," I said. "So?"

She laughed. "He likes you! I knew it! You call him yet?"

"Why would I? I told him I'd only call him if I needed another ride home, which I doubt I will."

"Another?"

"He gave me a ride home from the hospital after I got the cast on."

Xania just snickered.

"What's so funny?" I demanded.

"Typical of him to help out a girl in need," she said, grinning. "So hard to find a chivalrous guy these days. And speaking of chivalrous, did he give you a kiss to make you feel all better? Or stick his hands up your shirt to make you feel even more better?"

"No and no," I said nonchalantly. "He gave me a noogie."

"A noogie?" She raised an eyebrow. "He never gave ME a noogie."

"He said he sees me more as a little sister."

"Riiiight. A little sister, mm-hmm. And by next month you two will be making out in the back of his truck."

"I have no feelings for him," I snapped. "I see him as nothing more than a friend."

"C'mon, Rosho, any time you're seen with him, people aren't gonna see him as a 'guy friend' of yours. They'll be callin' him your boyfriend or lover or the like. Girls aren't friends with guys without being at least a LITTLE attracted to them!"

"Well, I'm not attracted to him. Sorry to disappoint you."

Fortunately, Xania let up on the teasing, and I was allowed to get on with my day, but because of the cast on my arm, I wasn't able to write very well. I had to ask other kids to copy their notes for me. And in gym class, the teacher didn't want me to participate in any contact sports, but I managed to have him let me play soccer, since it didn't require me to use my arms.

By the time Saturday rolled around, my cast was covered in drawings and get-well messages. Looking at it kinda gave me a warm feeling inside; it was nice to know that people actually cared about me. And so, when the doctor was about to remove the cast, I asked him if I could keep it, and he said I could. "Usually it's the younger kids who want to keep their cast," he said, "but I see a few older kids who want to, too."

"Well, when you're thousands of miles from home, it's nice to know that somebody you're with cares," I mumbled.

"I know."

Once I got the cast off and took it home, I went and put it on an empty shelf in my bedroom closet for safekeeping. I stood there and looked at it for a moment, reading all of the messages that were scrawled on it. And then I sighed. People here cared about me…not everybody did, but at least a few did. But they weren't my family. Mom was my family. Linna, Nene, and Sylia were my family – they were my 'aunts'! And I couldn't even talk to them unless it was via vidletter! They were on the other side of the Pacific, and no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't give them a hug, or go shopping with them, or laugh with them. But I knew that if I missed their voices, all I had to do was pick out one of the vidletters they'd sent me and watch it again.

But it just wasn't the same, somehow. And hearing those recorded voices made me feel even more lonely inside, and it hurt. _I want to come home,_ I thought with more desperation than ever. _Please, let it be soon!_

_-----_

A week later, semester finals decided to rear their ugly head. All the kids at school seemed freaked out, wondering if they were going to survive, and I just had to laugh. The term finals at Kihi were way harder than these were; I had to grin at the thought of what their reaction would be to those. Admittedly, I did squirm at the thought of doing one of my finals, the math final – math was never my favorite subject. But when the day came that I had to take it, I just walked into the room, took deep breaths, and didn't look at the paper until I absolutely had to. And then, I looked it over, and breathed a sigh of relief; most of them were multiple-choice questions! Mrs. Sasaki had never given those kinds of tests; she said that real life was never multiple-choice, and so a test shouldn't be, either; kids should figure out the answers themselves. I just shrugged and happily went through the test. _One multiple-choice test can't hurt,_ I thought.

After finals week, there was winter break, which I wasn't used to, since Christmas wasn't an official holiday in Japan, but that never stopped people from celebrating it, even if they didn't know the meaning behind it.

"You need to pack a suitcase, Rocío," Irodia said, walking into my room. "We're going to be leaving tomorrow."

"Where're we going?" I asked.

"Minnesota. Didn't I tell you? We go there every year to celebrate Christmas with Tyler's family."

"Sounds familiar. Guess I forgot," I replied, smiling shyly.

"Well, get going!" she said, slapping me on the shoulder. "And make sure to pack lots of warm clothes. Most of the time it's below zero."

"Are we gonna stay in a hotel or what?"

"No. Tyler's father owns a very large log cabin. Everyone stays there. It's usually three people to a room."

"How many are gonna be there?" I asked, squirming at the thought. She sure made it sound like a big crowd was going to be showing up.

"Tyler's mother and father, his grandparents, his two brothers, and their families."

"Sounds like a family affair. You sure I'm allowed to tag along?"

Irodia bent down and looked me in the eye. "You're a family guest, Yumeko," she said in a low voice. "If they reject you, I'll be the first one out the door."

I chuckled. "Gee, now I feel tons better," I joked.

At my request, Irodia helped me pack my suitcase, and the more she described Minnesota, the more awful she made the winter seem there; she said it was nothing compared to wintertime in Tokyo. "Goodness, you have hardly any sweaters at all," she remarked after going through my dresser drawers. "We may have to go shopping for you!"

"No, I'm ok with just my sweatshirts."

"Wearing those baggy things will let in all of that cold air. If you wear sweaters, none of that cold air will creep in; they're more snug."

"And itchier too," I mumbled.

"Oh, by the way, your report card came in the mail today," she suddenly said, as if she had just remembered. "And Mikhaila's too."

"Did I pass?" I asked dryly.

"Yes, every single class." She paused, then asked, "How do you explain the D-plus in your history class?"

"Simple: it's an American history class, not Japanese history," I said flatly, tossing a pair of boots into an open suitcase.

"It's a world history class, not just American."

"Yeah, but it's from an American perspective. The damn teacher and textbook try to glorify everything that the Americans contributed to. It makes me sick! They make the African slave trade sound like it was just part of business back then, like shipping spices from China. The African people aren't products, they're human beings!" I tossed several pairs of jeans into the suitcase and went on. "I even skipped ahead in the book to the A-bomb tests, and they tried to make the test-bombing of the Bikini Atolls seem like it was in the best interest of the world, when we ALL know the only people it was in the best interest of were the people up in the Senate and the Oval Office, thinking that Russia had their trigger finger on the button to blow the whole US to kingdom come when in fact it turned out that both the Russians AND the officials in Washington just had their heads up their asses the whole damn time. I think maybe they were just looking for the next big powers to take down after bitch-slapping Germany and Japan. Russia wanted to be the sole superpower, but saw the US as a threat, and vice versa. It's just sick! It's just like Genom seeing the Sabers as a threat, and the Sabers see Genom as a threat. The only difference is that Genom wants to blow the KS up, but the KS, all they wanna do is keep Genom in check, that's all. They're not looking to take them down. It's like the KS and Genom are having their own Cold War, in a way, 'cept it's a little more one-sided." I finally stopped and took a breath.

"And you think it's going to come to a head soon?" Irodia asked in a low voice.

"Well, the US and Russia's Cold War went on for forty-five years. I don't think the one between the Sabers and Genom is gonna last quite that long. Right now it stands at twenty-four, and…and I have a feeling it'll be ending soon." I fidgeted. "The Cold War ended when the USSR got broken up. I'm just hoping that the Knight Sabers aren't going to become a broken-up USSR of sorts…"

"Whatever happens, I'm sure that the Knight Sabers will pull through somehow," Irodia assured me, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You and they have been through a lot, and I'm sure they've been through things that neither of us has any clue about."

"Yeah, probably," I admitted. "But…if something happens to them because of the situation with me…I'm…I'm never going to forgive myself. It'll be all my fault."

"Whatever happens in Tokyo is out of your control. Don't feel responsible over their actions." She perked up. "Anyway, you're on winter break now! You're supposed to relax! Now tomorrow, when we leave for Minnesota, I don't want to see you sulking over anything, ok? Just relax and have fun, enjoy yourself! That's what a winter BREAK is for, to take a BREAK!"

"Or break my brain worrying," I quipped.


	5. Winter break

The next day, everybody piled their suitcases into the back of the car, and we drove out to San Francisco International Airport. I sighed as I looked around; it just seemed like yesterday that I was in this very place, waiting for Irodia to pick me up. I instinctively tied back my hair and put on a pair of dark sunglasses as we were waiting in the line to get through the security checks; didn't want some stranger suddenly calling out my real name in front of the whole damn airport.

Once we got through the security checks, we hopped on the underground train to take us to the concourse where our plane was. Mikhaila and I didn't even glance at each other as we stood there, waiting to come to our stop. I did hear her mumble a comment about my sunglasses, however.

"Look at 'er, hiding like she's some kind of celebrity," she mumbled under her breath.

_You have no idea how close to the truth you are,_ I thought, pretending I hadn't heard her. Irodia gave her and me a sidewards glance, then gave Mikhaila a warning look. Tyler didn't even hear; he was too busy watching our luggage to make sure nobody would come and try to steal it.

Once we got off the train, we sifted our way through the crowds until we got to our gate, then when it was announced over the intercom that our plane was boarding, we got in line and eventually made our way aboard. I winced several times as I got crushed by the mob of people trying to find their seats; I'd forgotten how cramped coach was compared to first-class, but I didn't care – I never really liked having special treatment anyway. After we found our seats, Tyler and Irodia sat down, and Mikhaila and I sat down in the row behind them, Mikhaila insisting that she have the window seat. I shrugged and let her have it, and after I sat down, I reached into my bag and pulled out my CD player. I sifted through several of the CDs I had before finally choosing one, the debut CD by the rising star, Shavon McAllister. But before I had the chance to put it in the CD player, I heard an announcement over the intercom.

"We will be taking off shortly. Please leave all electrical appliances turned off for the first ten minutes of the flight. Thank you for choosing Delta Airlines."

_Yeah, yeah, _I thought sarcastically as I kept the player on my lap and leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes. A few minutes later, I could feel the plane backing up and turning, then it starting to move forward with increasing speed, and before I knew it, it was already off the ground.

Once the "Seat Belts Fastened" sign above me turned off, meaning it was safe to move around the plane, I put on my headphones and turned on the CD player, then immediately went to track number three, entitled _Never Satisfied_. A slow drumbeat greeted me, followed after a few seconds by an electric guitar, playing just as slowly. The sound reminded me of one of those popular bands from the 20th century. What were they called? Def Leppard? Yeah, I think that was it. Shavon's music reminded me of them. I closed my eyes as her voice filled my ears.

_I'm sitting here playing my guitar,_

_and I'm trying to come up with a happy tune._

_But if in my heart, I ain't happy – I'm just a damn lonely girl –_

_then instead of happy, I'm gonna be hearing melancholy._

_The melancholy tune plays out in my heart…_

_In my head, the memory playback starts…_

_Yellin' and shoutin', and being called a whore,_

_but look at me now – I've walked out the door._

_Chorus_

_'Cause I'm – never satisfied!_

_No no, you can't get this woman down._

_'Cause I'm – never satisfied!_

_No no, you ain't runnin' me out of town._

_'Cause I'm – down, but I ain't out,_

_and I'm tired o' being kicked around, so – watch out…_

_Picking at the guitar strings_

_with fingertips, callused and torn,_

_I'm a-hopin' to be moving on – but I'm such a damn hurtin' girl –_

_and I don't know if I can right now._

_The memory playback starts again in my head…_

_Curled up and crying in my bed…_

_I can't stand this life, and I've got the scars to prove it,_

_but I'm not gonna sit here and have my life turned to shit!_

_'Cause I'm – never satisfied!_

_Yeah yeah, I'm getting outta here!_

_'Cause I'm – never satisfied!_

_Hell yeah, no way you're keeping me here!_

_'Cause I'm – bruised, but I'm strong too,_

_so outta my way, I'm gonna be headin' off…_

_Backpack slung over my shoulder, and one foot out the door,_

_I'm not taking the time to say "See ya," 'cause I need not say more,_

_so don't try to stop me, petty threats aren't gonna keep me._

_If you think I'm just playing, then why don't you just watch me!_

_Yeah, watch me…_

_Repeat chorus_

The first time I'd heard this song, I was stunned – it was just like my life story, and although it was supposed to be a story about an abusive spouse, it sure seemed to speak to me. This Shavon girl was going to be big, I was sure of it. I listened to the song several more times, half-singing, half-mumbling the words to myself, before finally deciding to listen to the rest of the CD. It made the flight to Minnesota seem pretty short, but hell, with this CD, we could've flown around the world and I wouldn't have noticed!

-----

After the plane landed at Minneapolis-St. Paul Airport, it didn't take long to find out which crowd of people was there waiting for us in particular. The moment we got into the main area after we got off the plane, there were yells of, "Tyler! Irodia! Is that really you? Oh my, Mikhaila is getting so big!"

"Great to see you, Will," Tyler exclaimed as he and the man I assumed was Will gave each other a bear hug.

"Did you get a haircut?" a blonde woman shrieked. "I hardly recognize you!"

"I had it cut back in February," Irodia laughed, running a hand through her hair. "Didn't I send you those pictures from the Fourth of July party?"

"Yes, but I'd just assumed you had your hair tied back."

Irodia turned to me. "Rocío, this is Bethany, Will's husband," she said, gesturing to the woman in front of me.

"Hello," I said, holding my hand out. Bethany took it and shook it gladly.

"So nice to meet you," she said. "Are you a friend of the family's?"

"Something like that. I'm staying with them for the time being."

"Well, that's wonderful. Any friend of Irodia and Tyler is a friend of ours."

"Where are Ivan and Cindy, by the way?" Irodia asked. "Are they back at the cabin?"

"Yes, their grandfather is playing card games with them. It's probably for the best that they stayed, anyway. I didn't want to drag them out for another long car ride. They get so cranky."

"How old are they now?"

"Ivan is four, and Cindy is three."

"Goodness, it won't be long before they start begging to borrow the car keys," Irodia joked.

Bethany just laughed. "Before I know it, they will!"

I looked around for Mikhaila, who had just been behind me a minute ago. When I looked towards the seating area, there she was, with her carry-on bag sitting on her lap. "This happens every year?" I inquired.

"Yeah. It's just like _Leave it to Beaver_," she groaned.

"What's that?"

"It's an ancient show that was popular last century. It's about the perfect family in a perfect world where everyone gets along and nothing bad ever happens." She snorted and rested her head on her hand. "I dunno about you, but I'd go nuts in a world like that."

"Not quite your idea of utopia, huh?"

"If it was utopia, I wouldn't be going nuts," she deadpanned.

"Oh, just throw Genom into the mix and they'll know what hell is like," I joked, managing a grin. Irodia threw me a cautious look, but I ignored her.

"Got any good music in there?" Mikhaila asked, nodding towards my CD player.

"I have a few CDs, but I've mostly just been listening to Shavon McAllister."

"Oh, I've heard about her. Hope she's not another goddamn bubblegum-pop singer."

"No, her music's not like that. If you like rock, you'll probably like her."

"Could I borrow that thing on the way over to the cabin? I don't wanna listen to Mom and Bethany jabbering the whole way."

"Be my guest. Just make sure I get it back," I warned her, reluctantly handing her the CD player and my CD carrying case.

"I ain't going anywhere with it 'cept where you're going, too," she said flatly.

"All righty, let's all head out!" Will called to the rest of us. "Need to try to beat the coming storm!"

"The last time you said that, we got stranded for five hours," Irodia groaned as we all headed to the baggage pickup area, Mikhaila and I lingering behind.

"Now, now, Irodia, that was a fluke. I normally have great timing when it comes to this stuff," he protested lightheartedly.

"Yes, he knows this area like the back of his hand," Bethany said, then got a goofy smile as she paused. "But you can't know it very well if you're blind as a bat."

"Bethany!"

Irodia snickered and Tyler grinned, while Mikhaila and I just stayed silent. After the long plane ride we'd just been on, and the long car ride to come, we were both just worn out. Once we grabbed our luggage and made our way through the airport to the parking garage, Will and Bethany led us to a beige-colored minivan. They opened up the back and tossed in the luggage, then opened up the side door and let me and Mikhaila sit in the back row of seats. Irodia and Bethany sat in the middle section, while Will and Tyler sat up front, with Will at the wheel. After closing the doors, Will started up the van, and we were off.

Just like Mikhaila predicted, Will and Tyler started talking to each other about the past year, and the NFL playoffs, while Irodia and Bethany were jabbering on about their kids and their home lives. I looked over to the teen redhead next to me, and saw that she already had the headphones on and was nodding her head to the music. I sighed and settled into my seat and closed my eyes, letting the drone of the numerous voices in the van lull me to sleep. This was dull…almost as dull as Xania made her foster family seem when she told me what happened over Thanksgiving break. _If this is as dull as her Thanksgiving break was, then I may as well just hitchhike back to Sacramento,_ I thought.

-----

"Hey. Rocío. We're here."

My eyes fluttered open when I heard a gentle voice, followed by a hand shaking my shoulder. In front of me was Irodia, leaning towards me. "Huh…?" I said, sleepily rubbing one eye. "Where is everybody?"

"Everyone's already piled out. Gee, I guess you were really tuckered out, huh?"

I unbuckled my seat belt and grabbed my bag. "Yeah."

"Oh, here," she suddenly said, handing me my CD player. "Mikhaila said she was done borrowing it."

"Ok," I replied, taking it from her and putting it in my bag.

After Irodia ushered me out of the van, she shut the door and led me up the walkway to a large log cabin. I blinked and looked again, making sure I wasn't just seeing things; I had thought that log cabins were obsolete nowadays, but apparently I was wrong. I looked around the area at the surrounding scenery; there were snow-covered pines, marks in the snow where kids had made snow angels, and there was even a snowman, complete with a carrot nose.

"The snow's deep here!" I remarked, daring to step into it; it came up to just above my knees.

"Oh, this is nothing," Irodia said, laughing. "After a really nasty storm, it will be up to your shoulders! We're just lucky that Will had the pathway shoveled right now. Normally he never has time to get it clear before another storm comes down."

"Why's winter so nasty here?" I asked. "Even in Sweden, it's not this bad."

"It's the Great Lakes. They create their own weather pattern in this area. Snow from a storm last week will barely have had time to melt before another one comes and dumps more snow on top."

"Sounds pretty bad," I agreed. My leg took that moment to start aching, and I bent down to rub it.

"Are you ok?" she asked.

"Yeah. My leg just doesn't like bad weather. It starts aching whenever it rains or snows."

"You might be kind of miserable, then…" she reluctantly said. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. It's not like I can avoid bad weather all the time, 'cause I can't. Have you seen Tokyo in winter? It's REALLY damp there in wintertime!"

"Yes, I know what winter is like there. I used to live there, after all," she pointed out, a gentle smile forming on her lips. "I don't know about you, but I think it's freezing out here! Shall we go inside?"

I nodded quickly, shivering. "Yeah, sounds great." We both climbed up the front steps to the door, then after opening it, she and I both ran inside, making sure to shut it behind us. After taking off our coats and boots, Irodia led me to the dining room, where everyone was sitting down and having dinner. Thanksgiving had passed, but the dinner certainly looked like a Thanksgiving dinner! There was a huge turkey in the middle of the table, and around it were bowls of corn, mashed potatoes, yams, biscuits, and lots of other things. I could feel my mouth start to water, and on cue, my stomach growled.

"Please, sit down!" Bethany urged me gently, leading me to an empty chair next to Mikhaila. "Help yourself to whatever you want!"

"…Uh, thanks," I stammered. I looked around for the carving knife, then took it and cut myself a piece of white meat from the turkey, then helped myself to some of the mashed potatoes, corn, and stuffing. I sat there, quietly eating my food while noise of talk filled the air around me. Everyone looked so happy to be seeing each other; they all had smiles on their faces, and not one of the kids were whining or crying.

Well, except Mikhaila.

"You look how I feel," she mumbled, shoving a piece of turkey into her mouth.

"This isn't my family. I don't think I should be here," I said.

"I don't know them much better than you do. This is the only time of year I ever see 'em. I'd rather just stay home where it's quiet and you don't have to worry about little brats jumping on your bed at 7 AM screaming, 'Wake up, wake up, it's Christmas morning!'"

"You have a point."

"Please behave," Irodia interrupted, looking at Mikhaila. "I don't want you sulking around and hiding out like you did last year. Ok?"

"Ok," Mikhaila mumbled, looking like she didn't mean it.

"So who is everybody here?" I inquired, looking around at the mass of people sitting around the table. "I've met Will and Bethany, but that's it."

Mikhaila pointed to my left and started pointing at people and naming them. "The two really old people are Mary and Dick. They're Dad's grandparents. The two not-as-old people next to 'em are my grandma and grandpa, or, if you wanna call 'em by name, they're better known as Wesley and Desiree. Straight across from us are Will and Bethany and their kids, Cindy and Ivan. And finally, between them and Dad is Helga and Ray and their daughter." She let out a snort. "Her name is Whitney. I recommend avoiding her. She's a total control freak."

"How old is she? She doesn't look any older than us."

"She's sixteen, but passes herself off as twenty-two. She likes older guys and likes to think she's queen of the world. Last Christmas, she told me she was pregnant, but I dunno if she was telling the truth, or if she was just saying that to try to get my sympathy." Mikhaila looked over at Whitney and got a nonchalant look on her face. "Though apparently if she WAS, then she either miscarried or had an abortion. I don't care either way. She deserves whatever she gets, the bitch." She shoved a forkful of corn into her mouth, then gulped down her glass of milk.

"She's worse than Xania," I said dryly.

"Ha! She makes Xania look like the freakin' Virgin Mary! Xania knows to use protection – when she wants to – and makes sure she doesn't get pregnant, but Whitney? No way. She claims she's allergic to latex, and says she can't swallow pills, and some other shit, I forget."

I took a sip from my glass and set it down. "Sounds like she's just lazy to me." I looked over at the black-haired girl named Whitney. She looked at me for a moment, glanced me over, smirked, then returned to her dinner.

"I hope Bethany doesn't have me sleep in the same room as her again," Mikhaila groaned. "Last year, Whitney and I shared the same room, and she made it a point to make my stay a living hell."

I was about to answer when I heard a loud knock at the door. Bethany managed to hear it over the noise of everyone's talking, and quietly excused herself to go answer the door.

"Irodia didn't say there'd be anyone else," I said to myself aloud.

"Hmph, I bet Uncle Will decided to invite a friend," Mikhaila grumbled.

I pushed my chair away from the table and leaned back, watching Bethany answer the door. She was blocking the view of the person behind the door, but I could barely hear the two making small talk. Then, Bethany turned her head and called to Irodia, who then smiled to herself and walked to the door. I heard some more talk, then Irodia and Bethany led the guest back to the table.

My jaw dropped when I saw the new guest…

…Aunt Nene?

"Everyone, we have another guest with us for the holidays!" Bethany exclaimed.

"This is my cousin," Irodia said, gesturing to Nene. "This is Nene Romanova."

"Nice to meet all of you," Nene greeted in accented English, bowing.

"Hi, hi there," everyone said, not quite in unison.

"Rocío, you haven't greeted our guest," Irodia teased, leading Nene over to me.

I was speechless. I wasn't expecting to see Nene at all! I suppose I should have felt overjoyed, but…I didn't. I was more shocked than anything else. All I could do was shake my head.

"H…hi," I stuttered.

"This is Rocío, Nene," Irodia said. "She is staying with us."

"That's a pretty name," Nene said, smiling at me. "I like it."

_You would,_ I thought dryly. _You're the one who came up with it._ "T-thanks," I managed to say. What was she doing here?

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Mikhaila remarked, her mouth full of turkey.

"They just look so much alike," I lied. "You two look like sisters."

"That's what a lot of people say," Nene laughed.

"Here, Nene," Bethany said, pulling up an extra chair. She set it between Mikhaila's place and Irodia's place. "You can sit here. And let me go get an extra plate."

"No, you don't need to do that. I just ate on the plane."

"Well, sit down anyway!" she said cheerfully. "Catch up! Get to know everyone!"

"Okay, I will," Nene said, playing along as she sat down, flashing me a quick smile. Bethany was quick to serve her up a small plate of food, and it wasn't long before she and Irodia were chatting like, well, sisters. All I could do was shove my plate away; I'd lost my appetite all of a sudden. In her first vidletter to me, Nene had mentioned the possibility of coming to the States for Christmas, but I hadn't really taken her seriously. Secretly, I had wanted to see her again, badly, but now that she was really here in the flesh, I just didn't know what to do! And I didn't even know why! I'd wanted her here, and now she was, but…somehow, my brain refused to work; it was just as boggled as I was by the whole situation.

I'd been preparing myself for a long-term stay in the States, perhaps never to see Mom or the others again, so why on earth did Nene decide to show herself? Did she enjoy trying to torture me like this? We'd said goodbye at the airport, me preparing myself for it to be the final goodbye, but apparently it wasn't. Just when I thought it would've been, here she came, out of nowhere, just to play with my mind, trick it into thinking that it wasn't the final one, after all.

I hated mind games.

"Rocío," Nene suddenly said, bursting into my clouded thoughts, "tell me, how has Irodia's family been treating you?"

"What?" I stammered, confused. I snapped up my head and looked at her; I still could hardly believe she was really here. Was this just a crazy dream?

"I asked how Irodia's family has been treating you."

"Oh, they've…they've been great. Just wonderful. Why do you ask, Miss Romanova?" I inquired, the latter two words feeling weird on my tongue.

"Please, just call me Nene. Don't need to be formal around me. I was just curious because it must be hard, being away from your family."

I stood up, biting my tongue to keep from lashing out at her. I could swear she WAS trying to torture me by asking these stupid questions! "Well," I said slowly, managing to keep my temper in check somehow, "I miss my mom, but not the bastard who was beating my face in for all that time. She's the only reason I'd like to go home, but the only way I'll be going home is if everything but her is gone when I get there."

Nene nodded slowly in understanding, casting her eyes down nervously. "I can only imagine."

"I need to go get some air…excuse me," I said flatly, walking out of the dining room. I strided out to the front room, and after yanking my coat on, I went outside, went down the front steps, and headed down the pathway towards the driveway, stopping when something caught my eye. I turned my head and saw the snowman I'd seen earlier stare back at me, a smile formed with small rocks pasted to its face.

"Yeah, keep smiling. Everyone just says to keep smiling," I growled, grabbing a fistful of snow and hurling it at the snowman. The snowball hit it in the hat, making the hat fall to the snow. "Yes, smiling will make you feel better inside, Irodia says." I hurled another snowball at the snowman, this time hitting it in the arm. The arm stayed intact, however. "What a crock of shit that is."

I finally gave up throwing snowballs and just fell back onto the blanket of snow, staring up at the black sky, snowflakes swirling all around me, the cold wind biting at my exposed face. I bit my lip and closed my eyes, trying to get the wheels in my brain turning lest the bitter cold freeze them up. What WAS Nene doing here? She wasn't supposed to be here. Didn't the Knight Sabers need her in case of an emergency? And besides, wouldn't Genom find out about one of Yumeko Asagiri's friends suddenly going to the States? Surely they'd think there must be something going on besides a Christmas celebration; as far as I knew, she had never come over here to celebrate Christmas with Irodia and her family.

Family…all my family was on the other side of the Pacific, and they didn't even celebrate Christmas. Neither did I, but actually being around people who celebrated it made me really depressed somehow. Maybe it was just because of family getting together from all around the country when they otherwise probably would never see each other at all. I wished I could have that luxury, but I didn't. It wasn't fair, to deny me what everyone else looked like they had! I wanted to go home, curl up under the blankets in my own bed, my own apartment, go to the local café with Linna and Mom for some hot chocolate on a cold winter's day like this one.

Hmph, hot chocolate…just the thought of it made me both nostalgic and sick to my stomach. Hadn't Mom and I been at a café sipping hot chocolate on the afternoon when Michiko's body was found? I didn't know if I could ever be able to touch that stuff again. Knowing that the drink was warm while my friend's body was cold…the thought was revolting. How DARE I enjoy such a nice drink while Micchan was laying there in a dumpster, just waiting to be found.

"Hey! What're you doing?"

At the sound of that female voice, I opened my eyes. Above me stood two redheads, both bundled up in heavy coats, staring down at me, curious and concerned. "It's freezing out here. You can't stay out here too long when it's like this," Irodia said matter-of-factly.

"Just leave me alone," I said.

"Yumeko…did I say something?" Nene asked, looking guilty, yet not quite knowing what to feel guilty about.

I bolted up out of the snow and got in her face. "What're you doing here?" I demanded. "You shouldn't even be here!"

"I came to visit you. Irodia invited me to come, and plus, Priss wanted me to come too, just to see how you're doing," she replied.

"What if Genom finds out about this, huh! Then we're ALL screwed!"

"I checked with Sylia first. She said it wouldn't be a major risk for me to come over here. And besides, I'm only here for a week. It's not that long." She sighed. "I want to be able to spend as much time with you as I can before I have to go."

"What, you want to help me with something?" I inquired with a cynical tone. "Is that it? Because I don't need help with a damn thing. I'm doing fine." I kicked at the snow with my foot.

Irodia shook her head and looked at Nene. "She was a wreck when she first came here, but I guess she's been doing better now. Although…she does seem a bit distant."

"Because I don't know you!" I snapped. "I didn't know you and hadn't even heard of you until four months ago! I got dropped into a place where I don't know anybody, and I've basically had to start from scratch! How else would you expect me to act? I'm not going to tell my life story to a bunch of strangers!"

Irodia looked hurt and taken aback, but before she could say anything, Nene jumped in. "Yumeko, I know you're angry," she said, putting her hands on my shoulders. "I know you are. Maybe it's because Priss wanted you to stay out of the spotlight for a while, and maybe it's because I'm here intruding on your new life, but…but we all care about you, ok? We'd only want the best for you. Do you hear me?"

"Mom sent me away!" I yelled. "She sent me away! And just when I was starting to get used to how things work around here, YOU show up! Why don't you just go home and go back to your fancy life in Tokyo, huh? Go back there while I sit here and…and…and go crazy because I can't spend time with my own family!"

"Priss didn't send you away," Nene tried to assure me. "It's not like she sent you off to a boot camp or anything. She just wants you to lay low for a while, to have a normal life for once, to…to be able to cool off and regain your sanity."

I almost laughed out loud at her last remark. "My sanity. Ha! The only one who should be giving a shit about my sanity is me."

"Don't you get it? Priss is worried about you! She's worried that you're cutting yourself off from your emotions to try to deal with what you've been through. Yumeko, that's not dealing with it at all! That's just repressing it! It's going to come back sooner or later, so why don't you just TALK about it?"

"Because I don't want to!" I took a breath as the three of us just looked at each other, wondering what to say next. "It's…it's nobody's business. It's impossible. Nobody here knows the real me except Irodia. You wanted me to lay low, well, I'm laying low. I'm laying REAL low. Hell, I probably should've been put six feet under months ago just so nobody would be having to deal with me right now. That's what everybody wants, isn't it?"

"No," Nene said, shaking her head as she started to get tears in her eyes. "The people who love you are very glad that you're still with us. And you know we're willing to put our lives on the line to make sure you keep living on."

"AM I still with you?" I asked dryly. "Certainly not physically. But in spirit I am, just like I would be if I were dead." I shook my head and started to head back to the cabin. "Just go home, Nene. You don't belong here. The Sabers need you more than I do."

"Just shut up and LISTEN for once!" Nene snapped, grabbing me by the shoulders and forcing me to look at her. Then she suddenly got quiet and blinked a few times to keep her tears from breaking loose. "Listen, I…Yumeko…we all love you. Priss loves you, and Linna and Sylia love you, and I love you too. We hate you being here just as much as you hate being here, and we're trying our best to make sure that when you come home, nobody's ever gonna be hiding behind a corner waiting for the right moment to strike. But we're putting the plan together, and it's going to take time. We don't even know if the plan is going to work, but we have our fingers crossed. You just have to roll with the punches until we have the situation worked out."

"The 'situation,' you call it? That's a plain way to put it. And what IS this 'plan,' anyway? You referred to it in your first letter, but you haven't elaborated on it at all. Want to elaborate now?" I asked.

Nene let out a chuckle and looked down for a moment, then looked at me again. "It might change as we go along with it. We may decide to change tactics if the way the plan is going isn't working out. I don't want to get your hopes up. That's why I haven't told you about it."

"So what is it?"

She let out a sigh and thought for a moment, trying to find the words. "Well…to put it bluntly, part of the plan is trying to find dirt on Madigan."

"Dirt? I'm sure any dirt has been swept underneath the rug pretty well," I pointed out. Nene just grinned.

"Yeah, I know, but remember, I'm a master hacker. Nothing can get past me," she said, chuckling evilly. "And Sylia has connections. I'm sure we'll find something."

"And if you don't?"

"Madigan has been working for Quincy for at least twenty years. I don't think there's a soul in Genom who hasn't committed at least twelve heinous acts," she quipped.

"HEY!" Will yelled from the door. "Why don't you three ladies come inside before you catch pneumonia?"

"We're coming!" Irodia yelled back. "Nene, Yumeko, we probably should go inside before anybody gets suspicious."

"You're right," Nene agreed.

All of us headed up the walkway towards the cabin, practically running now, as the wind had picked up and the snow was starting to fall a bit more heavily than it had been just a few minutes earlier. Before we reached the door, Nene turned to me and said in a low voice, "I can't tell you any more. I'm sorry."

"I just hope you find as much dirt as you can on her. I don't want to go through the same crap that I did when Quincy was running Genom."

"Actually, Sylia was saying that Madigan running Genom is just a formality."

"A formality? What does that mean?"

"He's letting her take a shot at us. He'll take over again once he decides that she's had enough fun."

"And when'll that be?"

"I really don't know. I wish I did…for your sake and ours."

-----

Nene and I didn't get much time to be alone together; with a dozen other people in the house, it was damn near impossible to be alone at all, and the sleeping situation was the least of it. There were several people to a room -- Mikhaila, Whitney, and me shared a room; Tyler, Irodia, and Nene had another; Will, Bethany, and their two kids had another; and each of the other couples had their own room. It was a fairly large cabin, so one would think that you could try to hide out for a while and no one would miss you, but in this family, it was like they watched one another like hawks; if someone was missing, everyone knew immediately, and would try to track down that person. Nene and I technically weren't part of this family, but from the way they acted, they didn't give a rat's ass about that; we were guests in their house and their Christmas celebration, and we were treated as such.

The two toddlers, Cindy and Ivan, were thrilled to have a few more playmates with them, and so whenever I tried to sit down, one of them would come over to me and beg for me to play a game with them, or to help build another snowman. "Are you making a snowman village or something?" I joked when Cindy asked me to do just that on Christmas Eve.

"The snowmen need wives," she pouted. "And babies."

"Isn't Ivan helping you?"

She shook her head. "He throws snow at me."

"That's not very nice. Well, let's go ask him to help us, ok?" I said, standing up.

"Ok!"

I took Cindy by the hand and led her outside and down the steps, and over by some trees was Ivan, Bethany, and Will building something out of snow. Certainly didn't look like a snowman. "What're you building?" I called over to them.

"A snow fort!" Will called back.

"Snowmen! Snowmen!" Cindy cried. "I wanna make snowmen! No snow house!"

"Maybe they're building a house for the snowmen to live in," I suggested, bending down to look at her. "I bet they'd like it if you went over there to help them. Maybe you could make a snow bed and a snow pillow for one of the snowmen."

Cindy's eyes lit up. "You gonna make one too?"

"Me? Um…" I scratched the side of my head. "Gee, you don't need my help. Snow's easy to work with."

"Help, please, help!" she begged, tugging at my hands as she led me down the path that the others had made in the snow. I reluctantly followed along, and once we'd reached Bethany and Will, Cindy ran and hugged them.

"Nice of you to join us," Bethany said. "Rocío, do you want to help us build the wall?"

"Sure. How high is it gonna be?"

"As high as we can," Will said. "Ivan's inside making an arsenal of snowballs."

"Oh really?"

"Nooo," Cindy whined, flailing her legs as Bethany picked her up. "No snowballs! Ivan throws them at me!"

"Don't worry, I'll make sure he doesn't," Bethany assured her as I gathered an armful of snow and packed it onto the wall. "How about you make a snowman while we work on the fort?"

"Rothee's gonna help me," the girl said, pointing at me; she couldn't say my name quite right, but then again, she was only three.

"I'll help her," Nene said from behind me. I turned and looked at her, and she just smiled. "I'll help her, Rocío, and you help them with the fort."

"Um, ok," I said slowly.

"Go on, go on," she urged, pushing me face-first into the snow with a shove when I didn't move. "You look like you've never played with snow in your life!"

I just laughed and stood up, dusting the snow off of my pants. "Yeah, right! Ok!"

I was about to turn and gather up an armful of snow when I felt something pelt me in the back of the head. I spun around, and there was little Ivan, laughing as he threw another one at me and retreated into the fort. "Hey, I'm gonna get you for that!" I teased as I ran into the fort after him, but was immediately greeted with a snowball to the face. I managed to duck the next one, and then noticed a whole pile of them behind him. "Yup, that looks like an arsenal to me," I remarked.

"They're mine!" he exclaimed, throwing another one at me, which I playfully blocked. "Don't touch!"

"No, I think I'll just help myself," I replied, diving towards them. Ivan threw another one at me, but once I had a few of my own, it was an all-out war! We both ran around in the fort, throwing them at one another, Ivan being the one who was getting beaten up, but for a kid, he had a pretty good arm; some of the ones he threw at me actually hurt. Finally, I tackled him, and while I held him down on the ground, grabbed some snow and rubbed it in his face. He just giggled and flailed his legs, trying to get up.

"No fair, no fair!" he laughed.

"You were the one who started it!" I joked, then yelped when I felt someone shove a fistful of snow down the back of my pants. I jumped up and yelped some more, and when I turned around, there was Nene.

"No picking on little kids," she said, wagging her finger at me with a twinkle in her eye.

"Says you," I said, laughing as I threw a snowball at her. After a moment, it had gone from me versus Ivan to me versus Nene. Ivan sat in the corner of the fort and laughed as we both pelted each other with more snowballs and wrestled on the wet ground. I pinned her down and threw a snowball in her face, then got up and went to the corner for more, but Nene came running, and actually tackled me. It was a bit more forceful than she intended it to be though, for once she tackled me, we both went tumbling into the wall, and the whole wall came crashing down on top of us, burying us both in snow.

"Oof," I managed to say once I had my head clear, after Bethany and Will started digging us out. "Now I know what it's like to be buried in an avalanche."

"I think an avalanche involves thousands of times more snow though," Nene joked, freeing her arms.

"Yeah, but still…"

"You two are so childish!" Bethany joked, helping me up while Will helped Nene up.

"Well, Rocío IS a child," Nene pointed out.

"Two hours of work, reduced to rubble," Will said, pretending to be melodramatic.

"House went down!" Cindy cheered. "No more house!"

"How about we all go inside now and warm up? You two look like something the cat dragged in," Bethany said, looking at Nene and me. We both looked at each other and just laughed; our hats had come off during the snowball fight, and now our hair was all wet and stringy.

"And have some hot cocoa," Nene chimed in, picking up Cindy in her arms as everybody headed back to the cabin. I followed behind, shivering but happy. What a thrill that little snowball fight had been, what a release. This was the happiest I'd been in a long time, but whether it was the fact that the cold made me feel so alive or that Nene was here, I didn't know. I pulled my hat back on and tucked my wet hair behind my ears as I looked at Nene, who was talking with Cindy. It was strange seeing her here…and yet I was happy to see her too, and at the same time, I knew that in a couple days, she'd have to leave again. _Better enjoy it while I can,_ I thought. _This moment isn't gonna come up again. I guess I should make the most of it._

_-----_

That afternoon, everyone started to help with preparing the big dinner. I'd thought that it'd be on Christmas Day instead of Christmas Eve, but Irodia informed me that they usually had a big dinner on both days. I just rolled my eyes and went along with it when everyone started asking me for help. First I helped Mary prepare the mix for the pumpkin bread. Actually, I didn't even really help her; I did all the work while she told me what to do.

"Don't stir too hard, dearie. Don't want any air bubbles getting into the mix," she reminded me, adjusting her glasses.

"Well, I need to get all of the powder moistened up," I said.

"Here, just let me do it," she grumbled, snatching the bowl from me with amazing force; I wouldn't have expected a ninety-year-old lady to have that much strength. I let her have the bowl and got out of the kitchen as fast as I could before anyone else could put me to work, and headed upstairs to my guest room. I opened the door and was about to flop down on my bed when I saw that I wasn't the only one in the room. On the bed farthest from me was Whitney, playing a portable video game.

"Didn't want to be put to work either?" I inquired.

"They know better than to ask me," she said, not looking up from her game. "I'd just burn everything, and they know it."

"I'm not much of a cook either," I concurred. I bit my cheek, then added, "You're not as bad as Mikhaila's made you out to be. You seem decent enough."

"Hmm?" She paused her game and looked up at me. "What has she said?"

"That you're promiscuous, and that's just the least of it. She also said that you like to pass yourself off as an older girl, and that you like to make her life a living hell."

"She's the one who likes to make MY life a living hell," she spat. "And what's that about me being promiscuous? She's the one who likes to hit on the guys in town, not me!"

"She also said that you claimed last year that you were pregnant."

"Ok, that I admit to. It was by a guy I was seeing at the time, but I miscarried around New Year's. Mom and Dad never found out, they just thought I was having a heavy period." She smirked. "I've heard some things about your kind, by the way…"

"And what do you mean by 'my' kind?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hispanics. How you're loose with your bodies and that married guys often have a girlfriend on the side, and that they like to beat up on their girls."

"Hmph, you must've heard wrong."

"Well, Mikhaila said you're only here because your father beats you up, so it can't be THAT far off."

"Mikhaila has no right to stick her nose in my business. I try to stay out of other people's business when I can."

Whitney stood up and walked over to me. "What's your name? Rocío? Well, Rocío, some people are just too damn nosy for their own good."

"Perhaps, and maybe I'm being nosy right now, but you sure don't act sixteen."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

She smirked and retorted, "Well, you don't act seventeen."

"Being beat up for most of your life tends to age you a little bit," I said sarcastically, adding a tiny smile.

Behind us, I could hear the door open, and when I turned around, there was Nene. "Oh, hello, you two!" she said in a singsong voice. "I didn't know anybody was in here."

"Sure you didn't," I joked. "What did you want?"

"Irodia wanted to talk to you."

I turned to Whitney. "Be right back," I said as Nene dragged me out the door.

Once the door was closed, Nene looked around the hallway, then led me into her room and shut the door. "That was a lie, Irodia's not looking for you," she said quickly. "I just needed to get you out of there."

"What's the rush?"

"Priss wanted me to give you this." She reached into her purse and took out a vidletter, then popped it into the vidletter player.

"Couldn't she have just mailed it?"

"With the Christmas rush, it probably wouldn't have gotten to you for another week if I didn't bring it myself." Nene beckoned me to sit down at the desk, then pressed 'play.' After a moment of static, Mom's face appeared.

"If you're listening to this, Yume, then I guess Nene's there after all," she greeted, darting her eyes away for a moment. She looked kinda nervous to me. "None of us here are Christians, but since it's the holiday season over there, then I guess that all of those cheery songs and stuff are getting to ya. I know you miss me, Sylia, Linna, and Michiko especially, but hell, Nene's over there now, so maybe it won't be quite as hard on you." She cleared her throat. "I told Nene this already, and I've been reluctant to tell you, but…I'm worried about you, and not just because you're hiding out. I'm worried because I've noticed that you're doing the same damn things that I did at your age. Cutting yourself off from everything, trying to pretend everything's ok, pretend nothing bad really happened. Well, I have a news flash for ya. That bad stuff really did happen, so don't pretend that it didn't. You need to accept that it really did happen, and don't think that it's all your fault. Trust me, I've been there, I know exactly what you're feeling and thinking."

"You weren't even a Knight Saber yet, Mom," I grumbled. Nene shushed me.

"I just hope that you're not going to keep this up forever, Yume. I know how hard it is to lose a friend, and I know that acceptance is not going to come overnight. It takes time. It might be a long time before you really accept that Michiko is gone, but please, don't delude yourself into thinking that she's alive and well, because she's not. She's dead…and someday we're all going to die. I'd rather it be later than sooner, but other than taxes, it's the only thing in life that's inevitable. Linna would say it's like trying to stop the tide, or like trying to stop the Earth from spinning.

"Anyway, I…I was thinking about you a lot the other day, and I wrote a song for you. Just to show you that no one here has forgotten about you, and that we all love you. It might be corny, but then again, it might not be."

Mom whipped out her guitar and strummed on a few strings, then started playing, and after about ten seconds, started to sing.

_Yume mire, yume mire, (Dreaming, dreaming,)_

_anata to ashita o yume miteiru. (I'm dreaming of a tomorrow with you.)_

_Aishiteru to itteru (Telling you that I love you,)_

_sore dake hoshii ne. (that's all I want.)_

_Ude no naka ni dakishimeta (I would hold you in my arms)_

_subete ga daijoobu to itteta (and tell you that everything's all right,)_

_ima anata wa nakitai nara (and now, if you feel like crying,)_

_ima sugu ni soko ni iru to wakatteru yo. (you know I'll be there in a heartbeat.)_

_"You know I love you, babe"_

_Hai, soo desu. (Yes, I do.)_

_Anata wa kokoro ni iru yo, itsumo. (You will be in my heart, always.)_

_"I see you in the stars"_

_Hitomi no naka mo. (And in my eyes, too.)_

_Anata o aisuru hito o wasurenaide. (Don't forget about those who love you.)_

_"I know" Kokoro no naka ni mieru kara. (I know, because I can see inside your heart.)_

_"I hope" Anata wa jibun o yurusarareru wa. (I hope that you can forgive yourself.)_

_"Help me, help you, let me see you through…"_

_"Let me see you through…"_

"That's pretty," Nene breathed, trying not to get teary-eyed. "She put her heart into that song, I can tell."

"Her English is better, too," I said nonchalantly.

"Is that all you can say about it?"

"I know she misses me. She didn't need to write a song saying so." I turned off the vidletter, which had ended by now, and walked out of the room, heading downstairs to grab my coat before heading up the stairs again, charging past Nene again, and out to the second-floor balcony. She followed after grabbing her own coat.

"You know, you really HAVE become hardened," Nene said, as if she was just now believing it. "Normally you would've been eager to hear whatever song Priss was writing."

I folded my arms over the railing and looked out at the falling snow in the distance. "She's always writing songs. It's like she never gets writer's block."

"That doesn't make the one you just heard any less special. Did you even listen to it?"

"Sure I listened. It was nice." A small smile formed on my lips as I turned my head towards her. "I just don't see why you were the one practically crying over it. I'm the one hiding out here indefinitely, I should've been the one to get teary-eyed, not you." I managed a chuckle.

"Well, why didn't you, then?"

"Because songs are stupid things to cry over. If you're sniffling at minor things, then how are you supposed to handle the bigger things?" I looked up to the sky and blinked when flying snowflakes got caught in my eyelashes.

"Life isn't just about big things, Yumeko," Nene said, walking up next to me and leaning over the railing. "It's the little things that make it worth it. You need to stop and smell the roses. Life isn't about the destination, it's about the journey."

"You're a walking cliché book," I joked, snickering.

"So what if I am? It's true, isn't it? If you worry too much about whatever big things might happen, you won't be able to appreciate the little things passing you by…like that song Priss just sang for you."

"I didn't say that I didn't appreciate it, because I do. But I'm not going to dwell on it like that song is going to change my life. It just let me know how Mom feels, but I already knew."

"Speaking about feelings…why don't you talk about what you're feeling? I know you're not totally cold-hearted. The bawling-out you gave me my first night here proved as much," Nene said.

"Why do you want to know?" I asked coldly. "It doesn't matter. I know how I feel, and I don't want anyone telling me how I'm 'supposed' to feel. I feel the way I feel, and that's that."

"There's a difference between keeping your feelings to yourself and stuffing them inside." She put a hand on my shoulder. "Yumeko…we've all been through a lot together. If you need to talk about something like the summit, then feel free to. We can relate."

"No you can't," I sighed, shaking my head. I fidgeted and hung my head, looking down at the distant snow-covered ground below. "I had to stay behind while everyone else went off to fight. If I'd been there from the get-go, I probably could've done something."

"You did do something. You saved my life and Priss' life."

"And nearly got mine snuffed out," I retorted, snorting. "I got shot, Nene! I couldn't even walk on my own for four months! And I got slashed too! Do you know what it's like to see everything covered in your own blood? Do you know what it's like to feel totally helpless, watching everybody you love and care for get beaten to within an inch of their life? It's a horrible feeling!"

"Is that why you went to Genom Tower, then?"

I was taken aback. I hadn't expected her to retort with a question like that, though it did make sense. I had to think for a moment; it was like I didn't even know myself why I went over there, went on a would-be suicide mission. I took a breath and answered.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Isn't it obvious? What do you think?"

Nene stood up straight, turned her back to lean against the wooden railing, and said, "My intuition says that you just felt so helpless that you couldn't do anything to save Michiko that you felt like you had to do something to make her death not look like it was in vain. You'd been stabbed four times in the stomach, but that didn't matter to you, because your determination was stronger than any pain you were feeling at the time, mental or physical. It was that way at the summit, too. You were so determined to save everybody that you didn't care what happened to you."

"I don't believe in the 'every man for himself' thing. It seems selfish."

"Perhaps, and during those two times, that was obvious enough that you didn't believe that. You're usually a very selfless person, Yumeko, but…lately, it just seems like you've been more and more introverted."

"What makes you say that?"

"The gun you got. It proves you want to protect yourself, and I can understand why, but the fact that you're introverted to the point where you don't want anybody close to you just seems selfish."

"How did you know about the gun?"

"Priss said you mentioned you got one in your most recent vidletter."

"Oh."

"Anyway, like I was saying, you're so introverted now that you don't want anybody close to you. Is it because you don't want anybody getting hurt like Michiko got hurt?"

"That's not it," I grumbled. "And besides, I do have a friend."

"Yes, Xania. I know," she said. "But I mean in general. Irodia said you've hardly opened up to her at all."

"She doesn't need to know anything. Why should I tell her anything when I'm not gonna be here that long anyway? This isn't going to be a permanent home for me. I'm not gonna let it get to that. I'm not going to live in hiding for the rest of my life, 'cause that's like telling Genom that I give up, they win."

"It's not giving up. Just call it a temporary backdown. Sometimes you have to know when to run, so you can think of a plan of action, to buy more time."

"I don't like to run…" I said softly, more to myself than to her.

"It doesn't make you look like a coward, if that's what you're thinking," Nene said. "Would you rather have gone down in a blaze of glory?"

"Sometimes I think that would've been the best way to go," I admitted. "I could've died as a martyr. And besides, at the time, I figured I was gonna die no matter what, so what the hell, why not go out doing what you feel like you were born to do?"

"Just because Genom is after you doesn't mean they're gonna get you. Didn't I tell you that we're working on a plan to defame Madigan?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean Quincy won't pick up where she leaves off. And if at some point they do find me, then I'm going to fight till the end."

"Not going to let them stomp on you like they did at the Boomer summit, so to speak?" she queried. Before I could respond, she said, "You said that in your letter to Priss. The one you wrote before going off to Genom Tower. I guess I couldn't have put it better myself."

"…Exactly. I'm not scared of them. If they do find me, I'll just blow them away."

"You don't have a hardsuit here. And I don't know how much good that gun of yours would do. Besides, what if they send a whole army after you? You couldn't take it down all by yourself."

"I don't care. We're gonna die sooner or later anyway, right? And I don't intend to die hiding in a corner."

Nene sighed. "I give up. You're too stubborn. But still…don't go through life assuming that the worst is going to happen."

"You know, when you assume, you make an ass out of you and me," I quipped. Nene gave me a puzzled look, then I repeated it in English so it would make more sense. "It's something I picked up from Xania. And don't even get me started about her theory about worrywarts."

"I can only imagine," she said, rolling her eyes. "So anyway, um…how has school been? Have you been able to adjust ok?"

"Yeah, it's been alright. It's not as tough as being back at Kihi was."

"Are you getting good grades?"

"Every day, Irodia practically chains me to my desk and doesn't let me leave until I have all my homework done. So I guess my grades are decent."

"Passing every subject?"

"Yeah."

"Get into any fights?"

"I've gotten into a couple. Haven't gotten suspended though…at least not yet," I added with a grin. "The guys here are wusses."

"Anybody try to hit on you a la Masahiro?"

"I'd rather not discuss it," I said flatly, darting my eyes away for a moment. "There IS one guy who seems nice enough. He's an ex of Xania's."

"What's his name?"

"Greg. He's your classic would-be knight in shining armor. I think he has a crush on me."

"Oh?" Nene got a mischievous grin on her face. "Have you gone out with him?"

"No. Our only 'date,' if you could call it that, was when he took me to the hospital after I broke my arm three weeks ago. I was trying out a new move on the uneven bars and I royally screwed up."

"Well, it's nice to know that there's a guy you know who's not a total pig. And it's great to know that you're back doing your gymnastics."

"I'm going to turn it up a notch once we get back to Sacramento. I really need to get back into shape if I want to be able to do the Olympic trials."

"Don't you have to be actively involved in gymnastics, though?" she asked. "You haven't been on a team since just before you joined the Knight Sabers."

"Well, don't blame me for getting shot through the leg," I grumbled. "Technically I probably shouldn't be able to do any of that stuff at all, let alone within the year after it happened. I guess I'm just lucky."

"What about schoolwork? How are you going to juggle that and gymnastics practice?"

"I think I'll go to school like normal, go to my tai chi lessons every other day like I've been doing, go home and do homework – since Irodia won't let me do anything until it's done anyway – then head back to the gym till it closes."

"You know what they do in China with their aspiring gymnasts, right?"

"They make 'em practice for eight hours a day, six or seven days a week, I know. But that's overkill. They'd get too worn out to do anything before long."

"Yes," she agreed. "So don't try to do too much at once, ok? After a while, your body will probably just get back into the groove."

"I hope so."

Behind us, I could hear the sliding glass door open, and when Nene and I turned around, there stood Mikhaila, bundled up in her coat, a package cradled in her arms. "Dinner's almost ready," she said, "but not for another ten minutes or so."

"What's with the package?" I asked. "Don't we open 'em tomorrow morning?"

"Yeah, but I needed to give this to you now." She walked over to me and held it out to me. I hesitated for a moment, then gingerly took it in my hands. "Go on, open it."

I raised an eyebrow and directed my gaze from the package to Mikhaila. "What's the catch?" I inquired.

"There's no catch," she replied, annoyed. "Just open it before I toss it over that balcony."

I looked back down at the package; it was wrapped in green wrapping paper and bound in blue ribbon with a big blue bow adorning it. The tag said "To: Rocío, From: Mikhaila." The package was rectangle-shaped, which made me think for a moment why on earth Mikhaila would give me clothes, because it was shaped like the kind of box that a sweater would go in or something. I shrugged and tore off the bow, then pulled off the ribbon and ripped away the wrapping paper, revealing a white box. The sides were taped down, and once I tore the tape, I took off the lid, only to see a layer of tissue paper. I lifted off some of the tissue paper, and nearly dropped the box when I saw what was inside.

Greeting me was the much-missed picture of me and Michiko, looking just as I remembered it. The frame was different, however; instead of an oak frame, it was surrounded by mahogany.

"What…how did you…" I stammered, looking up at her in shock.

"Before you accuse me of anything, let me explain," Mikhaila said. "That day you went to the mall with Xania, Juliana, and Sara, Mom had me helping her clean the house. She asked me to go around the house and collect the trash bags, so I went into your room to get yours, and I must've bumped the desk when I bent down to get it, 'cause suddenly that picture of yours fell off the desk, and the frame and the glass broke. I took the picture out of the frame, then I threw the frame away, and I hid the picture underneath my mattress. You were pissed at me, and I was pissed at you, so I figured that you didn't deserve to see it again."

"Irodia said she searched your room top to bottom for that picture," I protested.

"I only kept it there for a little bit before putting it in my backpack. I thought about throwing it away, but I couldn't do it. I dunno why, but I couldn't, so I didn't. And finally I just figured what the hell, the girl wants it back so bad, I guess I should give it back before she mops the floor with me. So just before we packed up to come here to the middle of nowhere, I asked Mom to buy a frame for it, and I brought it along, obviously.

"But what made me really decide to give it back was…I dunno exactly what it was, but on the plane, and in the van on the way here, I…I guess I learned you're an ok gal. You're not as bad as I made you out to be. You're not the mega-bitch that I thought you were. So…there you go," she said, motioning towards the picture. "Hope you're happy."

I nodded slowly, still in a bit of shock. "…Thank you, Mikhaila."

"You're welcome. I'll try to avoid dragging you into another swimming pool, ok?"

"And I'll try to avoid giving you any more black eyes, though if there's another time you deserve one, then I'll be there to give it to you."

"Ok, ok." She held out her hand. "Truce?"

"Sure. Truce," I said, shaking her hand.

"Dinner's ready," Irodia suddenly said, appearing at the doorway. "Get in here, it must be freezing out there."

"It's not that bad," Nene replied, though she was shivering from head to toe. "We'll be there in a minute."

"All right. Come on, Mikhaila."

"Ok," Mikhaila said, following Irodia inside.

"Am I missing something?" Nene joked once we were alone again. "What's this about her dragging you into a swimming pool?"

"It's a long story," I said. "Besides, it looks like that whole spiel is over and done with now, so it doesn't matter anymore." I hugged the picture and held it close to me as I looked out at the dark horizon in the distance. I swore I would never let this picture out of my sight again; I never wanted to deal with anything like that again.

"And who are those other two girls Mikhaila mentioned?"

"Juliana and Sara are two of the girls we hang out with. Sara gives everybody a ride to school and is obsessed about her Spanish class. She's really bubbly, and she kinda reminds me of Michiko. Juliana's the quieter one, the brainier one, I guess. They're both good girls. They ask me to go to the mall with them a lot, but I'm usually busy with my tai chi lessons or whatnot. Most of the time, I don't even want to go; I just want to be by myself in my room."

"It doesn't hurt to go out and have fun every so often," Nene said. "You're perfectly entitled to it."

"But it's just not the same," I sighed, looking at the picture again. I traced my fingertip over Michiko's cheek and said, "Nothing's ever been the same since Micchan died. I feel…guilty. I can't have fun when she can't. I never went to the mall without her. I feel like it's sacrilege if I can laugh and smile while she's in a hole in the ground, not even able to feel the sun on her face or…or enjoy the small things, like sleepovers!"

"Life is for the living, Yumeko."

"What?"

"I'm not being mean when I say that, but it doesn't make sense to put your life on hold for someone who's, well, no longer among the living. I know it hurts to lose a friend; I can only imagine. But you need to move on with your own life."

"She'd be alive if I didn't join the Knight Sabers. How do you think that makes me feel?"

"We can't all play God, ok?" she said gently. "Life is always going to be full of what ifs, but there's nothing we can do about it. All we can do is move forward. I forget who said this, but someone said that you can't plan for the future if you're still living in the past. You can't move forward if you're looking backward. You know what I'm getting at, right?"

"I think so…" I said. "But…it's been four months since she died. We've had four months that she never got. I feel like I…like I should be doing something more to help make her death not seem like it was in vain."

"Yumeko, you know what I think Michiko would want you to do? I think that she would want to see you live your dreams, go to the Olympics. She'd want you to live each day as if it were your last, live like you've never lived a day in your life. She wouldn't want you to feel sorry for her. She knows you feel bad, but you know what? She would want you to move on. You said she supported you for being in the Knight Sabers, right?"

I nodded slowly, clutching the picture in my arms.

"Well then, don't let her down! We're gonna show Madigan just what a bunch of middle-aged vigilantes can do!"

I couldn't help but laugh. "With the exception of me, of course!"

"Of course! But look at me. I'm forty-one years old, and I'm the youngest one of us four," she joked. "You're seventeen, due to turn eighteen in five and a half months. You still have your whole life ahead of you. Several Olympics, I'm sure, and whatever else you feel like you can do. We're not going to let your life get cut short by…by those people up at Genom. We're going to do everything in our power to help you."

"I hope you are," I said softly.

"You're going to come home soon," she swore, hugging me gently. "I promise that."

"Don't make any promises, Nene," I said with a pained voice. "You just might end up breaking them."

"No, this one I intend to keep. You just watch."

From below, I could hear a group of voices singing something. I looked down, and heading up the walkway was a group of Christmas carolers. They all gathered on the porch and started singing, and after a few moments, the door opened, and the whole family was gathered there, watching the carolers sing. They sang _Holy, Holy, Holy,_ then started singing a tune that I could practically feel tugging at my heartstrings.

"_Silent night…holy night…_"

I started softly singing the words along with them, and Nene looked on and just smiled.

_All is calm, all is bright._

_Round yon virgin, mother and child._

_Holy infant, so tender and mild._

_Sleep in heavenly peace._

_Sleep in heavenly peace._

"_Silent night, holy night… Son of God, love's pure light…_" I sang, starting the second verse, when Nene put a hand on my shoulder and stopped me.

"I thought you weren't a Christian," she joked in a soft voice. "How do you know Christmas songs?"

"I go to church with Irodia's family every Sunday," I said, managing a smile. "And plus, Irodia was singing them all the time at home when she was setting up Christmas decorations, so it was kind of hard to avoid learning any of them." I looked down at the carolers again and listened as they finished singing _Silent Night_, then started singing _Deck the Halls_.

"I guess dinner is going to be a few minutes late," Nene joked.

"I don't mind. Let's just listen to them sing."

I felt her put an arm around me, then she said, "Merry Christmas, Yumeko."

"Merry Christmas, Aunt Nene."

As the carolers continued to sing, I took that moment to look up into the night sky again. Snowflakes were still swirling down by the hundreds, landing softly on the trees and houses below. Several caught in my eyelashes, but I didn't mind. Right now, everything just felt so perfect, so peaceful. I didn't want the moment to end, and I especially didn't want to see Nene leave again, which she would have to do in a few days. But it was nice to see her again, if only for a week; at least I was actually able to talk with her in person instead of through a vidletter, which seemed strangely scripted. Having her here made me wish ever harder that soon, I'd be able to enjoy a moment like this with Mom, Sylia, and Linna too.

Yes, soon. That would be my Christmas wish, to be able to be with my friends and family again, if only for a moment. It would be better than not seeing them at all. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer, wishing for just that. If it was the only wish I got for the rest of my life, then I could die a happy woman.

I just hoped that what Nene said was true.


End file.
